


The Spark

by Sweasley



Series: Teddy & Vic [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Harry Potter Next Generation, POV Teddy Lupin, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, St. Mungo's, Tedoire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 145,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23971567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweasley/pseuds/Sweasley
Summary: Ted's had a busy year, too. Done with school and forced to deal with growing up, his year is filled with ups & downs. Annoying coworkers, mad hours, breakups, hookups & falling for the last person he ever expected to. This is Ted's trip through "A Year in the Life." (Part 3 of 4)Originally posted on ff.net.
Relationships: Teddy Lupin/Victoire Weasley
Series: Teddy & Vic [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1748590
Comments: 37
Kudos: 19





	1. In the Garden

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: If you recognize someone, they belong to JKR. The others are all creations of mine to fill the gaps. :) Plus, any similarities are accidental and completely unintentional.
> 
> A/N: Part 3 of 4 of a story I originally posted on ff.net. If you're here before checking out part 1, "The Start," do not pass go! It's best to read it before moving on with this story. However, Part 2: "A Year in the Life" can either be read before or after this story. They are interchangeable companion stories.

June 2016

Ted had only been to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries three times in his life, and all three of those times had been for the birth of Harry's children. His grandmother had taken him on each occasion-walking him down the white hallways and past all of the Healers in their lime green robes, he would watch as they rushed from point to point. As a kid, he used to find something very funny about the way the Healers would run about the hospital. It was as if they were always in a rush to get to wherever they needed to be. He wondered what could be so important that they would always need to be in such a hurry, but needless to say, these days, their swiftness made a lot more sense to him.

He exited the hospital lifts at the third floor where he approached an older witch sitting behind a desk. She looked up at him immediately.

"Can I help you?"

"Hi," he said, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket. "I'm looking for the antidote research office."

She gave him an appraising look before letting out a slight laugh. "Another one, eh?"

"Pardon me?"

"You go down there," she said, pointing down a long corridor. "It's the last door on the right." She smiled. "Best of luck to you."

"Thank you?" he said, forcing a strange smile before setting off down the corridor as she had instructed. That had been an odd encounter. He supposed he'd probably have to get used to a lot of strange behavior around a hospital.

He entered the final door on the right as he was told and found himself in a large round room that reminded him, in many ways, of a much better lit version of the Potion's Dungeon at Hogwarts. There were tables at the back that were covered in bubbling cauldrons and others that were cluttered with stacks and stacks of parchment. A few wooden desks were scattered around the remainder of the room while the walls were filled with photos and diagrams of various maladies and ailments—some of which were quite gruesome. One, in particular, caused a sudden sweeping feeling of nausea to overcome Ted the longer he stared at it. He averted his eyes away.

"You lost?" asked a deep sounding voice.

Ted looked around for the source, but didn't see anyone among the stacks clutter. He had thought the room was empty. "I'm looking for Edmund Herbertson," he replied to the mysterious voice.

A dark-haired man's head suddenly poked over a large stack of papers from across the room. "He's at lunch. He should be back soon."

"Oh," Ted said as he looked around the room, unsure of what to do next.

"You can sit and wait for him," the man said, gesturing to an empty desk. "That one's free."

Ted gave him a quick nod and made his way to sit. He continued to stare around the room to pass the time. It was an absolute mess in here, what with the stacks of paper and random junk lying about. How on earth did anyone get anything done with this much stuff getting in the way?

"So," said the man, "what's your name?"

"Ted," he said, looking in the direction of where the man had been before, but not finding him. "Ted Lupin."

"I'm Nathaniel," he said, suddenly appearing on the opposite side of where Ted had been looking. He had somehow snuck around the room undetected, which wasn't entirely surprising given the sheer amount of clutter. "Nathaniel Connolly."

Ted shook his hand; for the first time since entering, he managed to get a good look at him. He was solidly built and with broad shoulders, but wasn't nearly as old as Ted had assumed he was given the depth of his voice. In fact, he couldn't have been much older than he was despite his jet black hair being streaked with small patches of premature gray. Ted couldn't help but wonder if that was a result of the stress of the job or just an unfortunate coincidence.

"Fresh from school, then?" Nathaniel asked.

"I finished yesterday."

"Shit." He laughed. "Eager little beaver, aren't you?"

"I didn't have much of a choice, really. I just got the letter saying to come in today."

Nathaniel stared at him before clicking his tongue rather absently and turning back towards his desk. "You must be fairly bright, then."

Ted shrugged modestly. He'd never been one to brag.

"It takes a lot more than being bright to survive around here, though," he continued. "We get a lot of new people, but they rarely stay." He glanced towards the door. "A lot of it has to do with some of Healers around here. They're so far stuck in their ways that they refuse to accept new forms of research. Another is because the job itself is rather frustrating without the old senior-level geezers breathing down your back. If you're not a patient person, I'd recommend getting out while you can."

"I'm pretty patient," Ted said without flinching.

He smiled. "I was the last person they hired here to actually stick and I finished school over four years ago. We've had seven people since, counting you." He shook his head. "Not a single one has made it past three months. So, fair warning, most people won't expect you to either."

"I'm not much of a quitter," Ted said as the door to the laboratory opened. In walked a small woman—or a girl, Ted really couldn't tell given how young she looked—with short, fair hair. Her hands were filled with several bags, which she promptly dropped on the first table she came across.

"I got you a corned beef sandwich," she said, walking over to Nathaniel and holding out a bag to him. "It was all they had left, so don't bitch."

Nathaniel took the bag she'd offered and inspected it. "The entire tearoom only had corned beef left?" he asked doubtfully. "I hate corned beef. You know I hate corned beef." He poked his head inside the bag. "Why do I think you just grabbed the first one you saw because you couldn't be bothered to look?"

"Don't bitch," she said before her eyes abruptly settled onto Ted. "Who are you?"

"New blood," Nathaniel answered as he examined his sandwich in disgust. "He's waiting for Herbertson."

She laughed. "And how long do we give this one, Nate?"

Nathaniel had taken that moment to bit into his sandwich, his face growing more and more disgusted as he chewed. "Well," he said with his mouth full, "now that he's met you, I give him the time it takes to get to the door and run like hell."

She gave him a throwaway look before refocusing back onto Ted; her gaze trailed him up and down as though she was thoroughly examining him. She looked like she couldn't have been older than maybe fourteen, but the way she carried herself and the seriousness in her face said that she was definitely older than her baby face and small stature conveyed.

As she continued to look him up and down, Ted felt slightly like a zoo exhibit. It was mildly uncomfortable, so he cleared his throat in the hopes that perhaps she would get the message. It seemed to do something, because she did stop, but not before humming her approval—or disapproval, he couldn't tell—and walking away.

"Don't mind Hazel," Nathaniel whispered. "She's a bit much sometimes, but she can be really brilliant," he looked over his shoulder to see if she was paying attention, "though, I'd never tell her that because it would go straight to her head. Just watch it. She can be a real bitch if you set her off."

"I heard that," she said from across the room.

"And be careful when you talk about her, because she's got ears like a hawk," he added.

Ted cocked his eyebrow curiously at him, just as Hazel returned with her lunch and plopped down into the chair directly next to his. As she pulled out her own sandwich, she mumbled, "At least this one looks like he may have a brain." She looked at Nathaniel. "Remember the last one we got? She was a complete and utter moron." She glanced back at Ted and took a bite out of her sandwich. "You do have a brain, right?"

Nathaniel gave him a told-you-so shrug before returning to his desk.

"Um, I like to think I do," Ted said.

She nodded. "So, what's your story?"

He shrugged. "I don't know what there's to tell."

"Well, first, what are you called?"

"Ted."

"I'm Hazel," she said with a quick smile. "Now tell me, Ted, why do you want to work here?"

"Am I being interviewed?"

Hazel nodded while Nathaniel shook his head from across the room. Even with his question unanswered, Ted still began attempting to formulate something to respond with. Luckily for him the lab door opened again at that moment and in walked an older, grumpy looking man with stark white hair and a thick white mustache.

"Connolly or Gilbert," he said, "I need one of you downstairs with Healer Pullman to take notes on some recent dragon pox findings."

"I'll do it," Nathaniel said as he tossed his barely eaten sandwich into the rubbish bin. He then stood, grabbed a quill and a folder, and disappeared out of the lab.

"Now Gilbert," the man said as he picked up a folder, "they need someone on the first floor for an unidentified spider bite. They're saying the bite is causing hallucinations and purple welts, so we may have a new breed—"

"I'll go chart the symptoms," she said as she stood and walked across the room.

"Be sure to chart the symptoms," he said, clearly not paying attention to her. "We may have to work out an experimental—" He stopped when he noticed Ted. "Who are you?"

Ted stood and forced an awkward smile. Apparently, he was the only one who remembered that he had an appointment today. "Ted Lupin, sir."

"Oh," he said, his expression seemingly asking if he was supposed to know why that mattered. "Wait? The kid from Hogwarts?"

"Yes, sir..."

"Oh. Right." He waved his hand in the air. "Forgot about you. Well, you can just follow me."

Ted did as he was told, following the unidentified man into a small back office that looked far tidier than the front room they had just been in. The man sat down behind a large desk at the center of the room and motioned, without looking at Ted, to sit in the nearby vacant chair. As he sat, Ted noticed a small plaque on the desk that read: Edmund Herbertson.

"I won't lie," Herbertson said as he absently began scribbling something down onto a piece of parchment in front of him. "I'm not the one who schedules these orientation things, so I'm never prepared for them. I also happen to be short staffed and entirely too busy, so this will be quick." He reached over and grabbed a piece of paper from the top of a stack and quickly looked it over. "Your N.E.W.T. scores were impressive."

"You've seen them?" Ted asked casually, trying to hide his evident curiosity seeing as he hadn't even seen his results yet.

"Of course we have," he said. "We get the scores well before the students do. I'm told you're clever. You also come highly recommended by Professor Holt." He looked up at Ted for the first time. "He and I are friendly with each other."

"Oh, he's a great professor—"

"I'm giving you an opportunity," he interrupted, "if, of course, you're willing?"

"I am," he sat up straighter, "absolutely."

"Before you say that, let me say that the hours are long, the work is arduous, and it requires a person to maintain extreme concentration and skill. In training, you will feel overwhelmed and overworked and this is something you must become accustomed to as being normal."

Ted stared at him blankly. Why did it seem like everyone was trying to scare him off?

"Most people can't handle it," he added, returning to the paper in front of him. "I'm tired of wasting my time on people. Am I wasting my time here, Mr.—-?" He stopped and looked at Ted expectantly, as if waiting for him to fill in the blank.

"Lupin."

"Mr. Lupin?"

He shook his head. "No, sir."

Herbertson stood up. "If you can make it through the first six months, you'll make it for the long haul. Don't make me regret this."

Ted stood as well. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

"We'll see you next Monday," he said as he sat back down. "Connolly, who you just met out there, he should be here when you get in. He'll show you around."

Ted nodded and contemplated putting his hand out in an effort to shake Herbertson's, but he had already gone back to scribbling on his parchment. He instead hesitated momentarily before turning to leave.

"Oh, Lupin?"

"Yes, sir?"

"I run a very tight ship here," he said coolly. "I expect professionalism."

"Absolutely."

"Your hair," he said, pointing to his head with the tip of his quill. "You'll have to change it to something more normal looking. I'm not a fan of the wild color."

Ted absently ran a hand through his hair.

"You may want to rethink the length as well," he added. "Having shaggy hair like that past the ears isn't recommended since…" He smiled a little. "Well, you'll find that out in time, I'm sure."

"Not a problem," Ted said as he tried to remember the last time he'd even seen himself with normal colored hair. "It'll be fixed by Monday."

"Good day, then," he said dismissively.

Ted stood for a second longer, but then turned and quickly left the office. He just as quickly exited the lab and made his way back out into the corridors before taking the lifts to the ground floor. As he emerged, several Healers came hurrying by and yelling something about a poison code. He only just dodged one as they scurried by.

Upon walking out of the hospital, he immediately found himself hit smack-dab by the heat of midday; however, he had a feeling it wasn't merely the heat that was making him suddenly feel sweaty. He'd only managed to walk a few blocks before he felt compelled to stop and lean against the side of a nearby shop. What the hell was he getting himself into with this job? He'd practically been encouraged to run away by everyone he'd met in there, not to mention being told he was setting himself up to be overwhelmed and overworked. Plus, he was walking into this willingly. What was wrong with him?

He rubbed his eyes and thought of how miserable his summer was bound to be now. Everyone else he knew would be enjoying theirs. They would be going on holiday or, at the very least, doing absolutely nothing. They were probably enjoying themselves right now and not giving a second thought to what was in store for them in a few days time.

And just like that, he had the abrupt urge to vent to someone about everything he was now worrying about. He just wanted to talk and get all of his anxiety off of his chest. He wanted someone to tell him things weren't as bad as he thought, but of course, Celia was out with her friends and didn't expect him over for at least an hour or so. Harry was working, and Simon was fishing at some unknown destination for who knew how long. He didn't want to bother his grandmother with something that she probably would find trivial and tell him he needed to simply face head on. Besides those people, there was really no one else he could bother with this sort of thing.

Except…maybe?

He didn't give it a second thought. Seconds later, he disappeared with a pop, only to reappear many miles away along the cliffs of a seaside home. It'd been almost two years since the last time he'd been here, but as he looked around, things didn't look as though they'd changed at all from the way he had remembered them. In fact, staring at the house in the brightly lit summer sun reminded him of a familiar feeling of simpler times.

Crossing the lush green lawn, he approached the front of the house and knocked on the door. He found himself swaying anxiously back and forth on the spot before shoving his hands into his pockets simply to have something to do with them. After a moment, he heard the sounds of someone approaching from the other side, followed by a lock unlatching and the slow creaking of door hinges being awoken. As the door opened, a very pretty blonde woman appeared on the threshold; she smiled the second she realized who he was.

"Teddy."

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," he said, knowing that he sounded more formal than really necessary. It had just been so long since he had last seen her that he felt it was almost expected. "How are you?"

She learned against the door frame and continued to smile at him, seemingly amused by his unexpected visit. "I'm fine. I know it has been some time, but my name is still Fleur. That has not changed. You do not have to call me Mrs. Weasley."

"Fleur." He grinned. "Sorry."

"Come in," she said, stepping aside. "How have you been?"

"I've been well," he said as he immediately noticed how quiet the house was. "Very well."

"I'm glad to 'ear zat. Congratulations on your completion of school."

He smiled. "Thank you."

"Victoire's outside," she said as she pointed towards a side door in the kitchen. "I expect that's why you are here?"

Ted gave a quick nod. "Yeah, I thought I'd just come bother her."

"I'm sure you will not bother her," she said as she led the way towards the kitchen door.

"I like to think it's what I do best," he joked before approaching the door and pushing it open to reveal the side garden of the Weasley's home. The sunlight reflecting off the lushness of the green grass made him squint, but he focused quickly and began scanning the yard for Victoire. There was no sign of her anywhere, just trees and a few lawn chairs scattered about. He took a few steps further, letting his shoes touch the grass, before deciding to perhaps check the back of the house. He knew from the past that this was where she had generally preferred to spend her time when she was outside. At least, it had been when they were kids.

Sure enough, as he rounded the corner to the back of the house, he found her lying on the ground and reading in a patch of sunlight. She was lying on her stomach and facing away from him, not seeming to realize that he was there. He grinned. He knew he could easily scare her if he wanted to. Her reaction would actually be pretty funny, not to mention, he could definitely use a laugh right now.

He made his footsteps quiet, and with an all but silent approach, he reached his foot out and lightly tapped his shoe to her leg.

She yelped in a startled manner, rolling over onto her back and raising her hand to shield her eyes from the sun. "Ted?"

"Didn't mean to scare you," he lied.

She lowered her hand and shook her head. "You're a pitiful liar."

He laughed.

"What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd swing by and thank you for coming to my party yesterday."

She squinted up at him. "You already thanked me."

"Yeah, but, you know, I was distracted. And, you went out of your way to come even though you didn't want to." He shrugged. "So, thanks."

"Well, you're welcome," she said slowly, "but why are you really here?"

He looked away and off into the distance. "I didn't know I needed a reason."

"You don't need one, but since you have one, you might as well tell me what it is."

He glanced back down at her before taking a seat next to her. Even after a year and a half of not speaking to each other, she still somehow managed to have him figured out. Was he that predictable? "I was just bored."

"Yeah, me too," she said with a lazy sigh. "You start work soon, though. That'll be exciting."

Ted leaned back onto the grass next to her and stared up at the sky, noticing that it was quite blue today. "I think I hate my job already."

She turned to look at him. "Why?"

"I went by for orientation and everyone was telling me to get out while I could. Not to mention that my boss seems like a git, my coworkers all seem weird, and they've basically spelled it out for me that I will no longer have a life."

"When did you have one to begin with?"

"Funny," he said sarcastically.

"I'm sure it's just at the beginning," she said. "It'll calm down. Plus, you're a hard worker. You should be up for this sort of challenge."

"Yeah, a challenge," he mumbled. "I wanted a challenge, not indentured servitude."

"Blah, blah, blah." She rolled onto her stomach so that they were now face to face. "Did you really expect this to be easy?"

He stared at her.

"Did you?"

"Not easy, but—"

"They're probably just trying to scare you," she continued. "They probably want to make sure they're not taking on some lazy lay-about who's going to run the second things get hard. Ted, this has been your dream for ages."

"Curing the werewolf gene has been my dream," he corrected. "All the other stuff—"

"You have to pay your dues," she said matter-of-factly.

"I'm not quitting or running away, Vic," he said, now feeling defensive. "I'm just bitching to vent my frustrations."

"If that's it, then" she shrugged, "by all means. I'm all ears." She looked off in the opposite direction. "I'm a bit shocked I got chosen, though. Celia busy?"

"I'm not really sure what she's up to," he lied.

"Again with the pitiful lying," she said with a smile. "Where are you going to realize you're bad at that?"

He sighed. "She's with her friends, but I could have found her if I really wanted to. Instead, I…I don't know. I just felt like coming here." He looked up at the sky again. "I thought we should catch up. I feel like we're friends again, but I have no idea what's going on in your life."

"That's because there's nothing to tell," she said. "No plans for the summer. I start sixth year in the fall. That's that."

"How'd your O.W.L.s go?"

"Really good, I think. How about your exams?"

"Well enough to get me the career I've always dreamed of," he said with a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Victoire smiled. "Did Celia get angry that I came yesterday?"

Ted's face went pensive. "She was more annoyed that I didn't warn her rather than because you were there," he said as he put his arm behind his head. "Otherwise, she didn't mention it."

Victoire nodded thoughtfully as she began tearing blades of grass out of the ground. "My opinions aside," she coughed obviously, "how are things with you two?"

A bemused smile crept at Ted's face. "Are you actually asking me about my relationship?"

"Seems that way, doesn't it?" she mumbled.

"Things are good."

"How long has it been now?"

"A little over a year and a half."

"Jeez," she said, sounding surprised. "Time flies when you're having fun."

"Do I detect sarcasm?"

"From me?" She smiled innocently. "Perish the thought."

He shook his head. "Now who's the bad liar?"

She threw him a lazy smile before looking off in the distance. "So, do you love her?"

He looked back at her oddly. Victoire was the absolute last person on the face of the planet that he ever thought he would be having this conversation with.

"Yeah…I mean, I guess," he said slowly, "I think so."

"You think so?" she asked. "I thought love was this all consuming sort of thing and when you're in it, you just know?"

"It's not as cut and dry as you'd think." He shrugged. "I don't know. It's complicated."

"Whatever you say…" She flipped over onto her back again. They were both quiet for a long moment until she spoke again. "Can I ask you something?"

"Since when have you asked permission?"

"Well, it's a bit personal."

"I'll brace myself."

"Have you two…" She suddenly sat up and turned to look at him. "Have you had sex?"

He closed his eyes and recoiled slightly. Talking about sex with Victoire felt odd, as if she shouldn't even know what it was, let alone be asking him about it. Even hearing her say the word felt awkward.

"I'll take that delayed silence as a yes," she said as she wiped some sweat off of her brow.

"Yes," he said finally, "but that's all I'm saying about it."

"Why?"

"Because it's weird."

"Sex is weird?"

"No, but talking about it with you is."

"Why?"

"It just is," he said as he kept his eyes closed so he didn't have to look at her. "I don't know."

"Oh, give me a break." She laughed. "So wait, how was it?"

"Stop it."

"When did you first—?"

"Stop it."

"Are you actually any good?"

He opened his eyes and gawked at her. "What kind of question is that?"

She laughed again, seemingly amused by the entire conversation. "You're right. That question is probably far more fit for Celia, huh?"

"We're not talking about this anymore," he said in a hasty attempt to change the subject, "next topic."

"Okay, fine." She laughed as she lay back down. "Pick something, then."

He thought about what they could talk about that was the furthest thing possible from having to do with his sex life. "Why'd you and David Thorpe split up?"

Victoire inhaled slowly beside him. "It just didn't work out. You know how it is."

"Actually, I don't." He smirked. "See, I've only had one relationship so far and I'm still in it. Clearly because I can make them work."

She looked at him and pretended to be insulted. "Ouch, Ted."

"Now we're even for your little remark from before," he said with a laugh, though, as his laugh tapered off, they both grew quiet again. "You know, I sort of liked David. He was always an okay bloke. Minus trying to kill you."

"When did he try to…?" she began, though she seemed to suddenly realize. "Wait the coconut thing? How do you even know about that?"

"Thorpe and I go way back," he joked. "Best of friends, you know."

"He told you?"

"He brought it up in Potions one day. I overheard him telling Elizabeth Cole, actually."

"Huh…" she said slowly. "Funny how that's the second time in two days that her name's randomly come up."

"Elizabeth's?"

She nodded. "Penelope Shears came by yesterday to tell me how Elizabeth and Stuart Reynolds have broken up."

"Really?" he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. Elizabeth and Stuart had been together for ages. To hear that they had finally split up was sort of strange. It was even stranger when he thought about how long it had been since the days he had fancied her. It seemed like an eternity ago. "What happened?"

"I don't know. I just know they did."

"Wait. Penelope came all the way over here to tell you two people broke up?" he asked. "People do that?"

"They do when they know I happen to think Stuart is very cute." She smiled. "Not that I know whether or not anything will come from it." She sighed heavily. "He and Dave were friends, so it may be weird. But Dave's gone now, so we'll see."

"You know," Ted said. "I've never liked Stuart."

"Why?" she asked. "What's he done?"

The truth was nothing. Ted had to wonder how stupid it would sound to tell her that he hadn't ever been fond of him for the sole reason that he was the guy who had won the girl that Ted had never had a shot with anyway. Even though he was well over Elizabeth, guys like Stuart would always bug him solely because they always have—and always will—get the girl.

"He's just a wanker."

"He is not," she said defensively. "Why is he a wanker?"

He made a hesitant face, but it soon gave way to a smile. He might as well just tell her. It was all a thing of the past anyway. "Want to know a secret?"

She looked intrigued.

"Fourth year…and most of fifth year, too," he paused and laughed, "I fancied Elizabeth."

Her jaw dropped. "You fancied Elizabeth Cole?"

"Yep."

She let out a short laugh. "You are just like all the rest of them!"

"If that's what qualifies me to be like the rest of them, then sure."

"How come you never told me?"

"I just don't talk about that sort of stuff," he sat up as stretched, "but now you know."

"I didn't think you fancied anyone before Celia," she said, sitting up as well. "I can't believe you didn't tell me. Why didn't you ever do anything about it?"

"I don't even know. It was so long ago." He checked his watch and realized the time. "But I'm going to get going. I've got plans with—" He brow flexed obviously. "Well, you know who."

She smirked. "Oh, don't let me keep you from your potential shagging."

He sighed wearily. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"I would have figured it one way or another. Remember, you're a poor liar."

"I'll work on that," he said as he pulled himself off the ground and dusted grass filings off of his clothes. "But hey, let's make this a habit, shall we?" He gestured between the two of them. "You know, not go another year or so without a chat."

Victoire nodded and mustered a tiny smile. "Sounds good."

"I'll see you later, Vic," Ted said, gearing himself to Apparate.

"Hey, Ted?"

He stopped and turned back towards her.

With the same tiny smile as before, she added, "I'm glad you're back."


	2. St. Mungo's

You actually came back," Nathaniel said on Monday morning once Ted showed up for his first day of research training.

Ted forced a smile. "Yeah, well, I didn't have much of a Plan B."

He laughed and stood from his desk. "Oh, look you cleaned yourself up." He gestured to his own hair before pointing towards Ted's. "It's not blue anymore."

"Yeah," Ted said as he caught his reflection in a nearby mirrored surface. He had gone against Herbertson's advice and kept the length fairly shaggy, but he had changed the color. It had been strange seeing himself with brown hair, especially given that the last time he had worn it like this he'd been eleven or twelve.

"Well, let's get you settled then, newbie," Nathaniel said as he walked across the room to a desk that was currently covered in various items and folders. He began picking them up and moving them stack by stack before stopping to look at Ted. "This will go a lot faster if you help."

Ted set his bag down and proceeded to help him. Apparently, clearing the desk entailed simply moving the items from the one cluttered spot to another random cluttered spot in the room. Once all was said and done, Nathaniel nodded at the now clear work space. "That's yours."

Ted stared at it. Even though it was now clutter free, it didn't change the fact that the surrounding areas were still stacked several yards high with miscellaneous junk. He had a feeling that if he so much as sneezed in the wrong direction that an avalanche of paperwork would come collapsing down on his head. Still, it was his own small piece of space around here. That was a start.

"I forgot about that big spot," Nathaniel said, pointing towards a black burn mark the size of a plate that was taking up space at the top left side of Ted's desk. "Someone set a hot cauldron there once and it overflowed and burnt the desk. Try as we might, we couldn't get it out." He turned to Ted. "You may want to get a potted plant or something to cover that up."

"Yeah," Ted said without enthusiasm. "Thanks."

"I'm supposed to show you the ropes," he continued. "So, I guess, I'll give you a tour first. If you have any questions, feel free to ask."

"How the hell can you work in something this messy, Nathaniel?" he asked without hesitation.

"First, call me Nate." He glanced around the room. "And well, you sort of just get used to it. I think we always get someone in here who wants to revolutionize things and clean, but things can get pretty chaotic. Nothing ever really keeps."

"Yeah, but how do you find anything?"

"All on the tour, my friend!" He smirked and gestured for Ted to follow him towards several cupboards near the doorway. He pulled one open to reveal, surprisingly enough, several very neat and organized shelves. "This is the reference cupboard. Every possible potion you can think of is in here, and anytime you need a refresher course in anything, you'll find it here." He pulled out a random folder and opened it. "Futility Reduction Serum." He looked at Ted. "Know how to make that?"

Ted shook his head. He'd never even heard of it.

"Right." He put the folder back and started scanning through the rows for something specific. He pulled out another folder. "But I'm sure you're well versed in, say, a standard Sleeping Draught?"

He nodded.

"Right," he repeated, putting the folder back. "From grade one potions to the most complex substances you've ever heard of. Some of this stuff isn't even legal to use in treatment anymore, but we've still got it in here." He shut the cupboard. "Either way, if you question anything, it's in there. Sometimes, things get so crazy that you'll forget your own name, let alone some standard potion lesson from first year." He sighed. "Rule number one around here pertains to the reference cupboard."

"And that is?"

"Don't fuck it up," he said matter-of-factly. "You pull something out, you put it back. Don't let it get lost in this jungle." He gestured around the room. "Heard?"

He nodded. "Heard."

"Now over here, next to my desk," Nate began as he led Ted away from the reference cupboard and towards that side of the room, "are patient files." He pointed to dozens and dozens of folders that were lying scattered between Nate's desk and a table next to it. "That's what I'm doing right now. Checking them over and seeing how treatments we created are working for people. All of these," he pointed to folders, "are from last quarter, which means the last three months—"

Ted made an obvious face. He knew what a quarter of a year was.

"After every quarter, we have to go through and see what diseases and maladies worked with our remedies and what didn't. Some of this stuff is really experimental magic, while other stuff is the just the boring old cough and cold material." He shook his head. "That standard stuff will bore you to tears."

"I can imagine."

"The experimental stuff is, of course, why we all got into this," he continued. "Anyway, right now we've been a bit slow, so we've been trying to catch up on paperwork."

Ted chuckled and looked around the room. He was pretty sure the paperwork was getting the upper hand on them, but he didn't say that.

"Over here by Paul's and Linus's desks, you'll meet them soon enough, are storage supplies." He opened some much larger, but equally organized cupboards. "Ingredients and everything you need are in here. Keeping these organized is very important. Want to know why?"

"So you don't mix stuff up and accidentally kill someone?" Ted said obviously.

"Now you're catching on! Exactly. We create antidotes to save people, so rule number one is to make sure you take the proper precautions when making sure the right ingredients are in the right place."

"I thought rule number one was not to fuck up the reference cupboard?"

"Huh?"

"Nevermind," Ted mumbled. He took a deep breath and continued to follow Nate as he walked around the room.

"Now by Magda's and Hazel's desks," he continued, leading Ted towards several rows of cauldrons that were set up on large tables. "Is where we do, what we call, the cook work. This is where you brew, and mix, and chop, etcetera."

Ted nodded. The large array of cauldrons and burners had tipped him off to that much.

Nate walked over to one of the most cluttered parts of the room where the stacks of folders seemed to almost reach the ceiling. "Now, all of these are unfinished projects that people work on." He scanned the files. "Vanishing Sickness is the longest uncured ailment in that pile because," he made an obvious face. "No one's been able to keep their findings from disappearing."

Ted laughed. He had assumed he was kidding, but given the expression on Nate's face, he clearly wasn't.

"I know everything seems a bit chaotic," Nate said, "but honestly, you do get used to it. It takes me maybe five minutes to find the folder I'm looking for." He turned to Ted. "It's all about acclimating yourself with our procedures. If you can…"

"If I can," Ted repeated slowly.

Nate walked over to a nearby closet and pulled out several lime green robes that looked identical to the robes that the Healers wore. He handed one to Ted, which made him stare at him questioningly.

"We're going onto the ward," Nate said. "Rule number one, if you ever walk onto any of the ward floors, you have to wear one of these," he gestured to the robe, "especially if you're dealing with Healers or patients. Just try to walk into a patient's room in regular clothes. The Healers will have your arse kicked out so fast, your head will spin."

Ted stared at the robe hesitantly. Putting that eye soar of an outfit on wasn't something he was exactly excited to do. Plus, it looked aged and somewhat dirty.

"Come on," Nate said once he had put on his own robe. He grabbed at a stack of folders. "You're following me today, and we're headed down to the second floor to observe a patient we've been running experimental dragon pox treatment on."

Ted threw on the robe and watched as Nate flipped over a sign on the door that said, "On the Ward." He then walked across the hall, where he knocked on a door, waited for several seconds, and then opened it. He yelled, "Going on the ward" to someone inside, before shutting the door and turning towards Ted.

"Next rule. Always make sure someone is in the lab at all times."

"But—" Ted said, pointing back to the lab they were now abandoning.

"Magda's twenty minutes late," he said as they walked down the corridor towards the lifts, "which means she'll be here any minute now. Just in case though, if you do ever have to leave it empty, even just to pee, make sure you at least tell the guys across the hall."

"Who are the guys across the hall?"

"Older researchers who spend their years toiling away at the same projects day in and out," he said. "They don't do the standard grunt work we do anymore because, according to them, they're beyond that. They only do the really serious stuff." He pushed the button on the lift. "But, if an emergency occurred and none of us were around to whip up a simple doxy bite antidote, they'd be able to do it." He smirked. "Can't have someone die just because you have to pee, you know?"

Ted nodded as he boarded the lift. "That makes sense."

"It's not so hard to find someone to cover for you during the day," Nate continued once the lift lurched downward. "There's always someone around who's qualified to help."

"What about at night?" Ted asked. "Who's here at night?"

"We take turns," he said. "Shifts, if you will. Four shift to the day. Early morning shift, which I'm on now, goes from midnight to about one or two in the afternoon." He shrugged. "Keep in mind that it's not really a set schedule, just a guideline. You don't just get to leave because your shift is up. If we're busy, you'll be stuck here until things calm down."

"So, you could easily have a fourteen hour day?" Ted asked, sounding a little horrified.

"That's on a good day," Nate mumbled before they reached the second floor. "I'm sure you were warned that you'd be overworked. Anyway, that's the early morning shift. After that is the day shift, which is nine AM to roughly nine PM. Then there's afternoon shift, which is from noon to midnight. Last is the evening shift, which is six PM to six AM." He paused. "We split the schedule up among all of us every week."

"And Herbertson…?"

"He's here Monday through Friday from nine o'clock to maybe six o'clock if it's busy. He'll be out at five if he can help it. He doesn't have much to do with us besides supervising us, signing the paychecks, and relaying our findings to the more important people. That's his main purpose, to relay between us lowly minions and the big guys."

Ted stood there taking in everything Nate was telling him. According to what he'd thus picked up on, there were five people who worked in the lab, not counting himself and Herbertson. Everyday, there were four almost fourteen hour shifts that needed to be worked seven days a week…How many hours a week was that? He tried to do the math in his head, but he couldn't. The only thing that seemed obvious to him was that these people had little to no time off. How did they live like that?

"Do you ever have a day off?" Ted asked.

Nate laughed. "What's that?"

"Seriously?"

"Depends." He shrugged. "With you here now, it'll be easier to work some out. Which is why we want you to stick around, we just don't think you will." He sighed as his eyes suddenly went vacant. "It'd be nice to remember what it felt like to have some real free time."

Ted made a partly horrified face, but Nate gave him an encouraging slap on the back. "I've seen that face before. The last person to give it didn't last three months."

"That's reassuring."

The lift came to a stop and Nate immediately stepped off. "There's no doubt that it's a really difficult job." He gestured around the ward. "It's as difficult as being a Healer, no matter what they try to tell you."

Ted's expression remained dismal. "I am really hoping you're just trying to build this up and it's not as bad as you say."

"Eh, you'll forget what it's like to have life in no time," Nate joked once they turned a corner. "But seriously, if you stick around, Ted, that just means more people to work. More people to work means more time off for everyone, which means less stress in general. Hell, if we hire one more person around here, we may even be able to get two days off in a row!"

"Oh, great…" Ted mumbled, just as a group of three, young looking female nurses walked by. Nate made no attempt to not smile or stare at them as they passed. Once they were out of earshot, he smiled even wider.

"It's not all bad, of course." He nodded in the direction of the nurses. "There are definite perks. Cute nurses like that being one of them. They work long hours too, and sometimes, you'll run into them at the little pubs around the outside hospital after a long day—"

"Oh, I've got a girlfriend," Ted said.

Nate looked amused to hear this. "I had a girlfriend before I started working here, too…" He made a funny face. "Anyway, let me introduce you to the scrofungulus patient I've been treating for the last few weeks. He's a really nice guy. A real laugh once you get past the oozing pustules…"


	3. Down the Toilet

Over the course of the summer, Ted's biggest accomplishment was completely screwing up his sleeping habits. He'd gone from going to bed at night and waking in the morning like a normal person, to sleeping when he could and losing all track of time in general. On more than one occasion, he had left the hospital and been completely surprised to see that it was actually light outside—or dark. He had adapted to a lifestyle of eating when he was hungry, sleeping when he could, and working the rest of the time.

He also learned that Nate had been right. He did just sort of get used to the lab being cluttered. Soon enough, he had all but stopped seeing it for how cluttered it actually was. It had taken him about three months, but on that third month, he was amazed at how quickly and accurately he was now locating things around the lab. He wasn't the only one who had noticed either.

"Maybe this one will stick," Hazel said one day as she watched Ted concoct several successful draughts in a just a few hours time. She seemed slightly impressed.

Ted had trained with each of his coworkers so far, and as he followed each of them through their research techniques and their day to day duties, he began to catch on to the feel of the job and to how each of them worked.

He found working with Nate to be the easiest, since they both shared similar outlooks on their work. They both approached methods and potions in the same way, and they were both on the same page given that they'd both had Professor Holt as a potions master. Plus, Nate was closer in age; even on a social level, he was easier to get along with and communicate with.

Linus and Paul were older. They were both supervisor level researchers, which meant they were above where Nate was, but below the senior level blokes across the hall. Linus was a no nonsense workaholic who was strictly by the book and had little sense of humor. He kept his hair cut quite short and his robes were always immaculately pressed. He also seemed to be almost scarily anal in his organizational techniques, which only confused Ted the more he thought about it. How he managed to not have a nervous breakdown in this cluster filled laboratory, he'd yet to figure out.

On the flip side, Paul was very go-with-the-flow and constantly trying to get everyone to relax. He was scatterbrained when it came to everything but his work, but was the sort of individual who you couldn't anger or annoy no matter how hard you tried. He was eternally optimistic and happy, which, needless to say, grated on Linus's anal retentive nerves.

Then there was Magda, another supervisor researcher. She was in her late forties with a crazy cat-lady sort of feel about her. She wore too much eye makeup and looked as though she never brushed her hair, but as Ted soon realized, she was probably smarter than any one there. Every time Ted had been stuck training with her, she would lecture him on how she didn't agree with the use of certain ingredients in potions—due to their harmful effects on the environment. She claimed she was in this profession to create alternatives to having to harm plants and animals in order to help people, which was something she talked about frequently.

Lastly was Hazel. As Ted found out, she wasn't fourteen, but rather in her late twenties. She was born overachiever who rarely settled for anything but the best results. She could be friendly when she wanted, but she also had one of the shortest tempers that Ted had ever seen when provoked or annoyed. She was especially short with Nate, seeing as he frequently seemed to set her off. Ted had made several mental notes to not argue with Hazel if he could help it.

As summer drew to a close, Ted still hadn't been allowed his own shift yet, but that was fine by him. He felt as though he was learning loads, and the more he could learn before they stuck him on his own the better. After all, he was in no rush…

"Hey Paul," said Hazel during one slow night after Ted had spent the shift training with her. They had just finished work and were packing to leave when Hazel had picked up the shift book. "You think Ted here is ready to go on his own?"

Paul looked over at Ted. He had just arrived for the early morning shift and was settling in. "You think?"

She glanced at Ted before turning back to him. "I think he's ready. He's been doing good work with me."

"Yeah, he's been doing well with me too. Always has."

"Nate said the same thing earlier when I asked him." She started flipping through the shift book. "Magda's always had good things to say. I'm sure Linus would too, though, I've never asked him. "

"Linus would bitch if Ted wasn't working hard enough," Paul said. "It would give him more things to bitch about."

"True," she said, looking at Ted once again. "What do you say, Ted? Think you're ready to be on your own?"

He smiled and shrugged. "If you all think I can…"

"Yes or no?" she interrupted.

"Yes." He nodded.

"Excellent," she said. "I'm putting him on the shift schedule this week."

"Don't you have to get Herbertson's permission?" Ted asked.

"He'll say yes," she said as she started scribbling notes down. "It's been a few months. He's observed how well you're doing. We'll put you on the day and afternoon shifts. That way, someone else is always around if you run into trouble. We'll ease you into the overnights."

"So, with Ted on the schedule, does this mean I get to sleep and have time off?" Paul joked. "Maybe see my wife, for once?"

"I'll see what I can do," Hazel teased. She threw the shift book into her bag and slung it over her shoulder. "But I'm done for the night, Paul."

"Anything I should know about before you go?" he asked.

She glanced at Ted, gesturing for him to tell him. It seemed as if she was testing him.

"Um," Ted stammered after having been put on the spot. "The Welksworth Potion has been boiling for twelve hours and needs to be stirred soon enough. The Healers all have instructions for any of the high priority patients that we've been monitoring, but you may want to stop by the spattergroit guy on the second floor just to see if he's taking to that test potion," he glanced at Hazel who was looking at him as if he'd forgotten something. "and…"

"And…?" she said.

"And…" he repeated, racking his brain for what he could have possibly forgotten. "And I have no idea."

She smiled. "There's nothing else. I just wanted to make you doublethink everything." She smiled at Paul. "Looks like an easy night for you."

Paul was smiling, too. He nodded and turned back towards his desk. "Night all."

"Come on, Ted," Hazel offered. "You can walk me out. You look like you need some sleep. No offense, but you look terrible."

Ted grabbed his bag and hustled after her towards the door. "Yeah, well, I haven't really had a normal schedule for months now."

"Ahh," she said as they walked towards the lifts. "I guess it does take some getting used to. You're doing a good job though, know that."

He sighed as they entered the lift and hit the button to the bottom floor. "I don't even remember the last time I did something fun."

"Aww, helping people is fun," she said. The lift lurched downward. "And once you're on your own and done with all this training stuff, you'll be free to do more of your own projects. That makes things a lot more interesting." She paused. "Any idea of what you may want to do?"

He stared at her. Over the last few months, he'd come to realize that reversing the lycanthropy that caused werewolf transformation was no small task. It was the sort of thing that almost seemed too large to tackle, or rather, it should be left in the hands of older and more accomplished researchers and Healers. Telling her that curing it was his primary goal was bound to make him sound like an idealistic kid.

"I've got some ideas," he said lazily.

"Like…?" she pressed on as the lift doors opened and they stepped out. "Give me some examples. This is what we do."

He took a deep breath. "Well, since I was a kid, I've been fascinated with werewolves. With the Wolfsbane being so effective, I was thinking I could take it a step further."

She nodded. "By doing what?"

"Curing the lycanthropy that creates werewolves."

She slowed her pace and let out a low whistle. "You want to cure Werewolfism?"

"Essentially."

"Big dreams there, Ted," she said as they reached the hospital exit. "People have tried and failed there before. I mean, you're dealing with gene mutation and incurable infections…"

"Someone's bound to succeed eventually," he said. "Why not me?"

"At least you've got the right attitude, kid."

He stepped out into the night where a slight chill filled the air and indicated that autumn was just around the corner. "Kid? I'm not that much younger than you, you know? Only nine years or something."

She laughed. "Well, okay then. I'll stop calling you kid." She shook her head. "Now go home and get some sleep. You probably have to be back in a few hours, right?"

"Tomorrow at noon," he mumbled. "And I can't go home and sleep because I don't remember the last time I saw my girlfriend. I think she's starting to think I've disappeared."

"Well," she said with a funny smile, "if you think about it, you pretty much have." She gave a short wave. "Have a good night."

With that, she disappeared. Ted stared at the spot for a few moments and pondered what she had meant by that, but quickly decided he'd already wasted enough time today as it was. With a quick pop, he disappeared as well.

Moments after leaving St. Mungo's, Ted appeared outside of a building at the north of town. He opened the main entrance and walked up a flight of stairs before stopping just outside of green door. He hesitated knocking. Over the summer, while he had been trapped at work, Celia had managed to find a flat. She and Maggie from school had moved in last week, and this was only Ted's second time stopping by. He was usually far too tired from work to do anything more than sleep.

He checked his watch and noticed it was 12:30. The odds of Celia still being awake when he knew she had to work in the morning were slim to none, but given both of their schedules, he hadn't seen her for more than five minutes in over a week. Even then, they had just managed to have a quick lunch together. He raised his fist and slowly knocked, holding his breath until Maggie answered the door. It didn't look as if he'd woken her up.

"Hey Maggie," he said with a polite smile.

"Hey T.R," she said, crossing her arms in front of her. "Long time no see."

He sighed. He had a feeling Celia had probably been venting her frustrations at how little they'd been seeing each other to Maggie. "Is Celia home?"

"No, she's with her other boyfriend," she said. "The one she actually sees."

"Funny," he said sarcastically, just as the door to Celia's room opened and her head suddenly poked out. She was wearing a towel on her head and looked as if she'd just taken a shower.

"T.R…" she said slowly. "What are you doing here?"

"Came by to see you," he said once Maggie stepped aside and let him enter. "It's been a few days."

"I know." She pushed the door to her room open, which Ted assumed meant for him to follow. He did, and proceeded to walk straight over to her bed where he plopped down in an exhausted stupor. He threw her a lazy smile, which she returned in a similar manner. She was standing there with a towel wrapped around her.

"You look nice," he joked.

"I was just about to change," she said as she walked to her closet.

"You don't have to," he said, smiling as he tried to make his voice sound more cheerful than he actually felt. He was trying his hardest to stay awake, though, if anything would help him do that, it was his naked girlfriend.

"It's late…" she said, pulling out some pajamas.

"Yeah," he agreed. He really didn't have the energy to do anything anyway, but he felt as if he should probably try since it had been ages since they'd been together. He stretched. "So, how's work at the Ministry?"

"I'm really enjoying it," she said as she took her wand to her head and dried her hair almost immediately. "It's only been a week though, so who knows how it'll end up being."

He nodded and rubbed his eyes.

"You look terrible," she said. "Is your job ever going to lighten up?"

Ted sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "Maybe if we hire more people, but I don't see that happening anytime soon."

"So, it's going to keep being like this?"

"I don't know."

"And this is just your training," she said, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to him. "What happens when you're done with that?"

"Well, we'll see next week."

"You're on your own next week?"

He nodded. "Looks like it." He smiled. "I think it's a good thing. I mean, with me actually working a shift instead of being on with someone else, it'll free up more free time for me…For us."

She crawled over him to the open side of the bed where she laid down next to him. "We never see each other."

"I know," he said as he felt his eyes getting heavier. "It's crap, but we knew what we were getting into."

"No," she said, looking at him. "You knew what you were getting yourself into. I didn't have much say."

"I don't have much of a choice, Cee," he mumbled. "This is my job."

"I know," she muttered. She pointed her wand towards the lamp and turned out the lights. "I just wished you worked more normal hours or at least had a set schedule. I mean one minute you're working nights then next you're working mornings. I never even know when you're free."

"It'll work itself out," he said with a yawn. "I know it will."

"How do you know it will?"

He didn't have an answer for that, though. In fact, he had barely heard the question before drifting off to sleep.

Ted working his own shifts didn't ease or alleviate how busy his work schedule had become. While the entire research team now did get an extra shift or two off a week, it went unnoticed by the people who saw Ted from the outside. To them, he was still working just as much, no matter how much he claimed things were different. He felt the difference, why didn't they? Why didn't Celia?

Her displeasure with how little they were seeing each other was becoming more and more evident. No matter how hard Ted tried to convince himself that things were fine, things really didn't seem to be getting much better. His job was finally starting to pan out for him now that he was on his own, so why couldn't everything else in his life fall into place, too? Was that too much to ask? The way everything was currently going, it seemed that as soon as Ted worked out one aspect of his life, an entirely different part went to hell.

He truly wanted to believe that things with Celia would work themselves out if he just got through the summer. He had hoped that once Celia started working in August, she would find herself just as busy as he was. If she was busy, then the fact that he worked all the time wouldn't matter since she'd be working too. If they were both busy, she wouldn't gripe to him about how they never got to see each other because she'd have other things to focus on. He figured it was just a matter of time, but soon enough things would calm down. He knew they would…

Except they didn't.

As it turned out, Celia's job was from nine to five, five days a week. Her set schedule only seemed to make her realize how much more Ted was working in comparison. She constantly claimed she understood, but at the same time, she didn't think it was fair that she had to take a back seat to his job. She seemed to almost be under the impression that if Ted wanted to, he could do everything in an instant. That he could fix things, he just didn't want to. She didn't seem to realize that short of quitting, Ted couldn't change a thing.

Soon enough, the arguments on the issue started becoming far more frequent. It got to the point where Ted usually found himself taking what little time they had to actually be together, and using it to separate himself away from her in order to get some peace. As it was, they barely saw each other more than a few times a week. Now, the few opportunities they did get were being spent shouting and arguing with each other.

After the most recent argument, Ted had left in a huff and ended up sitting in the back garden of Harry's house. Sitting on his own, lost in thought and staring out at nothing in particular, he couldn't help but think of what a shitty feeling it was not to be able to enjoy the little free time he had. Every free moment he had these days was either spent arguing with Celia or thinking about how he could fix things so that he wouldn't have to argue with her anymore. Finding himself at his wits ends and without a clue as to what he should do, he continued to run the same loop of thoughts over and over again in his head. What was he supposed to do? What did Celia want him to do? How was he supposed to make things better? These thoughts were driving him mad.

Luckily for him, an interruption came at that very moment—in the form of a Quaffle to the side of the head.

"James!" Ted yelled once the Quaffle bounced off of him. He had turned to see James Potter standing several feet away, the obvious culprit. James had been smiling, but the smile had disappeared off of his face the second their eyes met his.

"You were supposed to catch it."

Ted made an obvious face. "How was I supposed to catch it if I wasn't paying attention?"

"Dunno." He shrugged. "I just thought you would."

Ted bit his lip and stared at him. James was headed for his first day of Hogwarts the following morning and Harry and Ginny had asked Ted over to dinner to see him off. Despite his poor mood concerning Celia, Ted felt it was the least he could do considering he'd barely seen the lot of them over the summer. Plus, with James leaving tomorrow, he wouldn't see him again until Christmas. He knew it wasn't fair to James to not come just because he was in a bad mood, though, getting hit in the head with a Quaffle was starting to make him rethink his decision.

"Are you angry?" James asked tentatively. It was almost strange to see him look worried since he was usually the sort of kid who showed little hesitation or fear. Harry always swore James looked up to Ted more than anyone, and that Ted should take it easy on him when he was acting up because he was only doing it for attention. Still, as much as he understood where Harry was coming from, it didn't make it any less aggravating.

Ted rubbed the side of his head where he had been hit. "No, it's no big deal. Just be more careful."

"Sorry," he mumbled as he hung his head at little. He immediately stiffened back up once the rest of his family came through the back door moments later. Puffing his chest out, he even pushed Albus for no apparent reason as the two of them sat down at the table.

"What'd you do that for?" Albus asked.

"Do what?" James asked with an innocuous tone to his voice.

"James…" Harry and Ginny both said together, giving him equally warning looks that parents seemed to specialize in giving their children.

"Why are we eating outside?" Lily asked as Ginny took the dolls she had brought with her and set them to the side.

"Because James is leaving tomorrow and it's a special occasion."

"About time…" Albus mumbled under his breath. James lifted up his arms to push him again, but Ted grabbed them before he could manage. He pulled him away from his brother and sat himself between the two boys to create a buffer.

"Al," Ginny said wearily. "Can the both of you knock it off? You've been at each other all day."

"It's because they're secretly upset to see the other go," Ted joked. "They're masking their true feelings of sadness by picking on each other."

"Are not!" they both said in a repulsed sort of way. They quickly gave each other dirty looks. Ted smiled and rolled his eyes. Those two could pretend all day long that they didn't like each other, but he'd seen their true colors on more occasions than he could count. When James wasn't trying to make a show out of being the older, tougher one, he and Albus were exceptionally close. Ted didn't doubt for a second that Albus would be fairly upset once James really was gone tomorrow.

"We'll all be sad once James goes tomorrow," Ginny said. "Off to Hogwarts already."

"I still remember my first day," Ted said to James. "You'll have a lot of fun, James."

"I wish I could go," Lily grumbled.

"In due time," Harry said. "Let me get used to the idea of your brother leaving before we send you off, too."

"Do you wish you were back?" Albus asked Ted.

"Absolutely," he said without hesitation. "Do yourself a favor," he pointed at James, "enjoy every second at school, because after you're done and you've got to go get a job…" He trailed off before making a face.

"Do you hate your job?" Lily asked.

"I something my job," Ted said, forcing a smile.

"I talked to your grandmother the other day," Harry said as he helped himself to salad. "She said you're only home maybe two nights a week." His face looked a little concerned.

"Oh," Ted said as he chewed his food. "Well, I mean, I really only work the overnight shifts maybe three nights of week. The other nights I'm usually just working late and going straight to Celia's."

James stabbed his dinner roll with his fork. "I haven't seen Celia in forever."

"Well, that makes two of us," Ted mumbled.

"Things okay with you two?" Ginny asked.

He shrugged. He didn't say anything, but Harry and Ginny seemed to understand where he was coming from given his reaction. Lily continued to stare at Ted questioningly, but when no one pushed the subject further, she seemed to pretend as if she understood too. Ted had a feeling that the subject was far from done being discussed though, and wasn't a bit surprised when it came up as he helped Ginny put the dishes away after dinner.

"You look overworked, Teddy," she said.

"I am overworked," he said with a lazy smile. "It's what I have to do."

"I know, but…" she trailed off and sighed as Harry walked in with the last of the dinner mess. "And what's this about Celia?"

Ted shrugged. "We've just been arguing a lot lately." He made a face. "A lot."

"About what?" Harry asked.

"About how I work too much and how I don't care about"—he raised his fingers and made air quotes—"'us.' She seems to think I'm working this much because I want to, not because I have to. As if I'm trying to be spiteful or something."

Harry nodded as Ginny said, "I can see how that would be stressful."

"It takes a certain kind of person to understand this sort of thing," Harry offered, glancing at Ginny. "Ginny and I spent almost a year apart if you add up all the time during the war—"

"Well," she interrupted, pointing her wand at the dishes she was cleaning, "we were technically split up."

Harry shrugged. "Maybe technically, but," he shook his head, "not the point. Anyway, the point is that you've sometimes got to sacrifice. Things aren't always easy and you've got to fight if you really want this to work. Celia needs to understand how important your job is to you, and if she can't…" He stopped. He stared at Ted as though he should insinuate his conclusion.

"You both need to compromise if you want to make this work," Ginny added. She was clearly trying to take a more optimistic outlook on the matter.

"That's what I say," Ted said as he crossed his arms. "She knows this is something I want to do and that it's important to me, but…" He rolled his eyes. "I don't even know."

"Have you thought about splitting up?" she asked bluntly.

Ted stared at her. He hadn't ever seriously considered it, but that was because it was hard to picture his life without Celia being in it. They had been together for close to two years now and he'd become accustomed to her being around. At the same time though, he had thought about her being the one to split up with him. He couldn't see himself actually doing it, but the idea of her getting fed up and ending things because she couldn't take it anymore didn't seem far fetched these days. He just couldn't picture himself being the one to do the breaking.

"Not seriously…" he said.

"Teddy," Harry said, adopting that fatherly tone that was only reserved for special conversations or points he was trying to make. "You need to do what's best for you."

"I know that."

"You clearly care about her, but you really have to do what is—"

"Harry," Ginny said. "It may not even be at that point yet. They may just be having a few spats here and there and—"

"We've been arguing for the last two months," Ted said.

"Oh." She sounded surprised. "Well, in that case, all I'll say is that relationships should make you feel good above all else, Teddy."

"I just think things will work themselves out," Ted mumbled. "Something is telling me to just give it a little more time."

Harry grinned. "You're a clever guy. I have no doubt that you'll figure this all out."

"Yeah…" he muttered just as Lily came running into the room and leaped at him. "But when? That's the question."

"Come on!" Lily yelled. "Come play!"

Ted forced a smile onto his face as she looked up at him. He was actually glad she'd come in and provided a distraction from the subject. As it were, the last thing he wanted to think about for the remainder of the evening was how his relationship was going down the toilet.


	4. Growing and Changing

Ted found himself starting at the clock that hung in the lab right above his desk. He wasn't sure how long he'd been looking at it, but he was starting to blend the numbers together into one big blur of nonsense. It was almost one o'clock in the afternoon, at least he thought it was. He'd been at work since midnight and was supposed to be done any minute now. If it was actually almost one o'clock, then he'd soon be able to go home and get some sleep. Sleep sounded really good…

"Lupin," said Herbertson, appearing from his office. "Did you just get here?"

Ted turned in his chair and hastily pulled his feet off of his desk where he'd had them kicked up. In his haste to take them off, he awkwardly stumbled forward in his chair and nearly fell.

"No, sir," he said, pointing to Linus at his desk. "Linus just got here about an hour ago."

Herbertson stared at him as if he was trying to figure something out. "What's the date today?"

"October 16th," he said quickly. He knew this because it was Simon's birthday and he had plans to celebrate with him later.

"Right," he said. "Well, what's on your schedule for the next week?"

Ted cracked his knuckles. "Well, I've been working on the Muffulitis Potion." He pointed to a cauldron on the other side of the room, which reminded him that he had to stir it before he left and leave a note to remind someone to do it again in seven hours. "I've been studying the components in the Welsh Green Virus and—"

"I have a new assignment for you."

It took every fiber of Ted's being not to groan out loud.

"As you may or may not know, Connolly and Gilbert have been helping some of the Healers and more experienced researchers with various dragon pox experiments."

Ted nodded. "I've seen them working—"

"You'll be helping them now."

He stared at him. "Wait, what?"

Herbertson furrowed his brow.

Ted suddenly backtracked. "Wait, what...sir?"

"They need more hands on the project," he continued. "It's gotten that large. You've been doing some good work over the last few months, so I've decided to put you on it as well."

"Oh," Ted said with a glance at some of the projects on his desk that he had been hoping to start work on, including some preliminary werewolf gene samples. This dragon pox project was huge. HUGE. It was running most of the department at the moment and it came as no real surprise that they needed more hands on it. Ted had been listening to Nate and Hazel complain about how much work it was since he had started there. With him being put on this as well, that meant that he wouldn't have the chance to do anything else. Nothing. All of the personal research he had planned on delving into and the new potions he had planned on exploring would have to be put on the back burner; literally.

"You're working tomorrow when?" Herbertson asked him.

"At noon."

"You may want to come in early so Connolly or Gilbert can catch you up." He grinned. It was the sort of grin that wasn't the least bit friendly. "And there's a lot to catch you up on, trust me." He turned to walk away. "This is big stuff, Lupin. We may be headed towards a breakthrough and a substantial cure for the dragon pox virus. To be a part of that would mean fantastic things for your career."

"Right…" he mumbled under his breath as he watched him go. It certainly could do great things for his career, but at the moment, all he could think about was how much more work he'd have to do.

"It's slow, Lupin," Linus said from across the room. "You can go home if you've got nothing else to do. Magda and I can handle things." He looked at Ted and cracked a rare smile. "You may want to enjoy what little fun you can still have before they stick you on dragon pox detail."

Ted grimaced before lazily standing and gathering his things to leave. His mind had gone blank. His didn't think of anything between leaving the hospital and the trip back to his grandmother's house, and he didn't say much when his Grams greeted him at the front door and asked if he was hungry. He didn't even dream once he drifted off to sleep, and once he was awoken hours later by his grandmother, he rolled over and had to force himself to remember where he was and what he had planned for that night. All he wanted to do was sleep, but this was Simon's birthday. There was no way he could miss this. He pulled himself up, showered the smell of the potions and the lab off himself, and dressed. He quickly caught himself in the mirror and noticed his hair was still brown from work. He was already tired of the dull color. He quickly changed it to blue.

Moments later, he Apparated from the house to the outside of a pub located near the Ministry of Magic. Simon had told him that the pub was a hotspot for Ministry employees after work, though Ted had never actually been. That wasn't to say that Simon didn't try to get him to go, but just like everything else in his life, he just didn't have the time. Thankfully, Simon never held this against him. He seemed to understand better than anyone what Ted was currently going through, and would merely just shrug and claim it was his loss if he couldn't go out.

Ted walked inside and immediately noticed lots of straight laced Ministry folks of all ages and distinction milling about the pub. He walked straight to the bar and ordered himself something to drink before scanning the room for Simon or anyone else he recognized. It wasn't until he searched the very back of the room that he noticed a small group of people tucked away at a table, Simon's familiar face among them.

"Merlin's ghost," Simon said as Ted approached, "you actually showed up, you lazy prat." He quickly smiled and crawled out of his side of the table towards Ted. He was still dressed in his hilariously awkward purple Ministry robes that made him look like a giant plum. Every time Ted saw him in them, it never ceased to not make him laugh. This moment was no exception.

"Happy birthday," Ted said through his laughter.

Simon grinned. "Glad you could come." He turned and introduced to Ted to several of the people that he was sitting with, most of whom he worked with. The only other face in the group that Ted actually recognized was Caleb from school.

"Is Celia coming?" Simon asked.

"Should be," Ted said. He took the opportunity to glance around the room on the off chance that she may have already arrived. "She said something about working a little late today, but she said she'd be here last so I talked to her."

"When was that?"

"Day before yesterday."

"You two haven't talked since the day before yesterday?"

Ted shrugged as Simon looked as if he was about to say something more, but, at that exact moment, several people offered to buy him a birthday drink. He happily obliged and turned on his usual life-of-the-party persona for all to see. Ted watched him with great amusement until Caleb tapped him on the shoulder and asked him what he'd been up to lately.

"You look knackered," Caleb said as Ted finished explaining to him just what it was he did for a living. "Sounds like a lot of fucking work."

"Someone's got to make it so the rest of us can live long and eventful lives," Simon said, raising his glass to Ted, "and I for once appreciate the sacrifice of your life to do that, mate."

"Thanks," Ted said sarcastically while both Simon and Caleb laughed. "I don't know, I mean, it's kicking my arse now, but everyone I work with says I'll start to get used to it soon enough. This one guy I work with told me it took him six months to adapt."

"You should have just gone to work at the Ministry," said Simon.

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'd really enjoy wasting away there. That'd be like a death sentence for me."

Several of Simon's colleagues, all Ministry employees, turned and gave Ted exasperated looks. Simon shook his head.

"These are all Ministry employees," Caleb snickered, gesturing around the entire pub. "You know that right?"

Ted smiled awkwardly and avoided the eyes of several of Simon's coworkers. "With that, I think I'll get something else to drink."

"Get me something too, would you?" Simon asked. Ted curiously raised his eyebrow at him, but Simon just shrugged. "Hey, it's my birthday."

"Guess I can't argue with that," Ted said, shaking his head and walking back to the bar. A pretty barmaid with jet black hair greeted him before he ordered his drink. As he waited, he glanced at the front door.

At that moment, Celia was walking in with Maggie and two people he didn't recognize. He watched as Celia and Maggie scanned the room for familiar faces and pointed around the room with enthusiasm. They seemed to recognize several people at a table near the center of the room and, as Ted watched, he noticed Celia grinning widely at something one girl had just said to her. It was almost odd to see. It'd been awhile since he'd seen her smile like that.

"Here you go, hun," said the barmaid suddenly. Ted turned back around and saw she was holding his drink and smiling at him.

"Thanks," he said as he took the glass from her. He paid and carried it across the room to greet Celia, who had stopped at yet another table to talk with some people. She didn't seem to notice him approaching.

"It was really crazy," he heard her saying to some bloke as he came right next to her. "You wouldn't believe—"

"Hey," he said with an awkward smile. Several eyes at the table all landed on him.

"T.R," Celia said, sounding surprised. "Hi. You actually came."

He shrugged. "It's Simon's birthday."

She smiled and nodded. "Of course. Where is he?" Ted pointed across the room and she followed his finger. "Oh, there he is."

He grinned. "You can't really miss the purple robes."

"Yeah," she said distantly. "You can't." She turned back towards the table and smiled at everyone. "Everyone this is T.R," she turned back to Ted and pointed to the table, "T.R, this is everyone. I work with them."

Most of them smiled politely, but two of the women at the table exchanged knowing—and vaguely disapproving—looks. He had a feeling that Celia had probably been talking about their problems with some of her coworkers.

Ted waved politely. "Hello."

"We've heard a lot about you," said the bloke that Celia had just been speaking with. He smiled. "I was actually teasing Celia just the other day and saying she'd made you up."

Ted didn't return the smile. "Yeah, I'm real."

His smile turned awkward. "Well, yeah, of course. I mean, that's good to see."

Ted turned towards Celia and pointed towards Simon. "I'll be over there."

"I'll be over in a second," she said.

Ted gave her an awkward look before giving her coworkers one last sweeping look. As he walked back across the room, he couldn't help but think how that had been fairly awkward.

"Took you long enough," Simon said as he noticed the single drink in Ted's hand. "Where's mine?"

"Oh," he said distractedly, glancing back over his shoulder. "Sorry, I forgot. Celia showed up, so it slipped my mind. I'll get you next time."

Simon stared at him strangely.

Ted forced a very fake, but believable smile, which made Simon seem to drop whatever thought was currently running through his head. He instead decided to pull Ted into a conversation with some of his coworkers about Quidditch. Ted attempted to actively participate in what everyone was saying, but his mind was currently across the room. Celia was still talking and laughing with the people from before. Apparently, 'a second' to her actually meant fifteen minutes.

He wasn't even sure why this was bothering him. He'd never been known to get like this before and he wasn't at all fond of the feeling. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why her standing across the room aggravated him so much, but it did. Perhaps it was because they never saw each other, and now that they had the chance, she was spending her time with people she saw all day, everyday. Perhaps it was because she was acting weird and distant. Whatever it was, it was starting to annoy the piss out of him.

"This guy," Simon said pointing to Ted, who only turned because he heard his name. "Has met so many famous Quidditch players it's ridiculous. You should hear some of the names!"

"Like who?" asked one man, though at that moment, Celia and Maggie finally appeared.

"Happy birthday, Simon!" Maggie said as she reached out to hug him. He stood and hugged her, doing the same to Celia.

"I've been wondering where you all have been!" he said with a smile. "Have a seat!" He gestured to the vacant spot next to Ted. Maggie waited for Celia to sit before she sat on the other side of her, and Simon smiled at the group before turning back to his colleagues. "I went to school with this entire lot…"

Ted leaned his head back and tuned out the friendly hum of conversation that was currently surrounding him. Celia was only sitting inches away from him, yet she felt as if she was miles away. Or maybe it was him who felt miles away…

Someone was telling a story about something that was apparently very funny. Everyone was laughing loudly, but Ted was too busy staring at Celia to pay attention. He'd been looking at her for the last minute and a half—very obviously so—but she hadn't even so much as acknowledged him. When she finally did, she seemed surprised to see him staring.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"You think?"

She arched her eyebrow. "What are you on about?"

"You tell me," he said as he lowered his voice. "You're acting awfully odd."

"I am not," she said dismissively.

He rolled his eyes just as Simon apparently said something funny and commanded a loud reception of laughter from the group. Everyone but Celia and Ted seemed to be in stitches.

"What's your problem?" he asked her.

"My problem?" she asked, her voice rising.

Ted glanced at Simon. It wasn't fair to him for them to have it out here on his birthday. "We need to talk."

She stared at him. "Then let's talk."

"Not here." He stood and gestured for her to follow.

She exhaled loudly, sounding rather annoyed as she stood and began following him outside.

"Where are you going?" Simon called after them.

Ted didn't answer. His mind was too focused on Celia and his growing frustrations. He pushed through the crowd and out the front door where he was greeted by the freezing night air. He was quickly reminded that he'd forgotten his cloak.

"What?" Celia asked once they were both outside.

"What," he repeated almost patronizingly. "You know exactly what."

"Actually, I don't." She shrugged. "That's the funny thing T.R, it's always something new these days."

"And that's my fault?" he asked. "You're the one constantly harping on me and making me feel as if I can't do anything right anymore."

She sighed and looked at the ground. "Well, it's not as if you can do anything wrong either. Since we don't see each other, it's more a matter of you not doing anything at all."

He clenched his jaw. "I don't even know what you want me to do, Cee. I honestly don't have a clue. I've explained to you a hundred times that there's nothing I can do short of quitting my job."

"I'm not asking you to quit your job," she said as her tone grew to match the harshness in his.

"So, you're asking me what?" he asked loudly. He felt himself shake and he wasn't sure if it was because of the cold or because of his anger.

"I don't even know anymore."

"And no offense," he said as he stood up straighter and frowned, "but that's a pretty shit excuse. You're complaining that we never see each other, but right inside there we had the chance and you decided to spend ages talking to your friends from work."

She rolled her eyes. "It wasn't ages..."

"You know what I meant," he said, his voice lowering.

"And you didn't exactly stick around to talk to me either—"

"Right," he said sarcastically. "It's not as if I wanted to get back to my friend whose birthday it is and the entire reason I came out tonight. No, yeah, I'd much rather sit there and talk to these people I don't know—"

"It wouldn't hurt!" she said defensively. "It wouldn't hurt if you tried to take an interest in my life and my friends, Ted."

"Oh, please..." he mumbled before turning away from her.

"No," she said. "Those people are my friends. Plus, you heard them. They thought I was making you up because of how little—"

"Oh yeah," he interrupted. "Given the looks on some of their faces they seemed ecstatic to meet me. Makes me wonder what you've been telling people, Cee."

"I've been telling them that my boyfriend is practically a ghost!" she yelled. "Because that's what you are!"

He stared at her and felt a very heavy feeling settle in his chest. "You're not even trying to make this easy on me."

She sighed.

"You know that?" He stood in front of her and looked into her eyes. "Do you really think I enjoy this? Do you really think that things would be like this if I had my way? Do you know how every free second I have I choose to spend with you? Sacrificing sleep—"

"Except for the last month," she said. "The last month, you've barely—"

"Because we fight every time we get together!" He gestured between the two of them. "This is all we do now, Cee. We bitch when we don't get the time to spend together and then we bitch when we do."

She didn't say anything to that. She just looked at the ground and shoved her hands into the pocket of her robes. "I don't know what to tell you."

He stared at her. Neither of them seemed to have an answer for how to make things better. They both only seemed to be getting more and more miserable as time passed. Ginny's advice of, "Relationships are supposed to make you feel good" suddenly rang in Ted's head. As he stood there, the absolute last thing he was feeling at the moment was good.

As he stared into Celia's face, the only thought he could muster was how much they had both changed from the sixteen-year-old kids they were just a short time ago. Their lives were going in different directions and they were holding each other back. It was as simple as that.

He looked away from her and took a deep breath. "You told me once that people grow and change…"

She looked up at him. She didn't seem at all surprised by what he was saying and he wondered if perhaps she'd been trying to think of a way to say it herself.

"We've grown and changed," he said quietly.

She nodded before looking away. She knew exactly where this was going. "Yeah."

"Yeah…" he mumbled, unsure of what exactly to say next. He knew one of them should actually say the words.

"So, that's…" She looked at him as if searching his face for validation. "That's it, then?"

He looked at his shoes and nodded.

"Wow, I don't even know what to say."

He looked away. He suddenly wished this conversation was over. At the same time, he didn't want it to end. There was still a part of him that didn't want to let this go, even if he knew they weren't right for each other anymore and that this needed to be over.

"It's weird to think…" She trailed off and sniffled a little. "But no, you're right. This is the right thing to do."

He felt his eyes start to burn a little, but coughed it off.

"I really do care about you," she said honestly. "Always will."

He smiled a little. "Yeah, me too."

She sniffled again and smiled a little. "Why does it feel like one of us is dying?"

He shrugged and took a deep breath. "We were together for a pretty long time."

She nodded. "Well, I know this isn't goodbye forever or whatever, but…" She looked away. "Take care of yourself."

"Yeah," he said he stepped forward to give her a quick hug. It felt weird knowing this was the last one he was going to give her as someone who was part of her life. The second he walked away, their lives no longer crossed anymore. "You too."

She smiled once more before immediately turning back towards the pub. Ted watched her go, but hesitated following her back inside right away, even though he was absolutely freezing. He leaned against the wall of the pub and rested his head back. With a glance up at the sky, he noticed that it was a cloudy night. Cloudy and cold…

He wasn't sure how long he had been outside thinking about what had just occurred, or running the last two years over and over again in his head, but his thoughts were soon interrupted by a random old wizard who tapped his shoulder to ask if he was okay.

"Too much to drink?" croaked the old man as he adjusted his hat. "You looked as if you're in some sort of a daze, son."

"Not enough to drink, actually," Ted muttered more to himself than to man. With a quick nod, he turned and walked back into the pub. He didn't see Celia or her friends anywhere, but she could have easily left through one of the side exits. Simon was still sitting in the back with Caleb, but the number of his friends from work who had been there earlier had dwindled to just two. Ted glanced at the bar. He needed a drink

"What can I get you, hun?" asked the barmaid once he approached her.

"Something strong," he mumbled, forcing a polite smile. "Anything but firewhiskey, please. I don't drink that."

As she smiled and turned away, Ted had a strange moment of realization. The barmaid was a very pretty girl; something he had thought when he had first seen her earlier. However, the fact that he had had a girlfriend had stopped him from thinking much else about her. Now that he no longer had a girlfriend, he could think or do whatever he wanted. He hadn't had that sort of freedom in a long time. It almost felt strange.

"Where the hell have you been?" Simon asked as he appeared at Ted's side. He smiled and looked as if he was well on his way to being happily drunk.

"Around," Ted said as the barmaid placed a shot of something in front of him. He barely stopped to see what it was before taking it and placing the empty glass back on the counter.

"That's the spirit," Simon said jovially. "Happy birthday to me!" He smiled at the barmaid. "Two more of whatever that was…On him." He pointed at Ted.

Ted grinned. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. Keep 'em coming."

"You don't have to work tomorrow?" Simon asked as the barmaid placed two more shots down.

"Oh no, I do..." Ted said, raising his glass. "Anyway, happy birthday." Simon raised his glass and they both quickly drank them down. Ted figured that the more of these he had, the less he'd have to think about how he'd just ended his relationship, and the less he'd have to wonder as to whether he made a mistake or not.

"Wow," Simon said as his face reacted to the alcohol. "What the hell is that stuff?"

"Don't know. Don't care. You want to go again?"

"Yeah, one more," Simon said as he gestured to the barmaid for two more. "You know, since it is my birthday, after all."

"You said that already," Ted said. He watched as the barmaid placed two more in front of them and began to walk away, he quickly grabbed her attention. "Can I get a pint too, please?"

Simon laughed. "Damn T.R, you're going all out—"

"Yeah, let's drop that whole T.R thing," he said quickly. "It's just Ted now. T.R was a school thing."

He stared at him. "If that's what you want."

"Yeah." Ted nodded as he picked up his shot glass and held it up. "Yeah, it is."

"Have you told Celia that you want to drop it?" he asked before picking his glass up. "Wasn't she the one who gave it to you?"

He pursed his lips. "Yeah, she was. But it doesn't really matter since we split up, so—" He suddenly took the shot in one quick motion and forced a smile. Simon, however, hadn't done the same. He stood there staring at him, his glass still in the air.

"What?"

Ted felt his head get lighter, but nodded before picking up the pint glass that the barmaid had given him. He reached around in his pocket for some money, placing it on the bar top before standing and walking off to where he had been sitting before.

"Hold on," Simon said as he hastily took his shot and slammed it down on the counter. "What the hell do you mean you split up?"

"What do you think I mean?" he asked obviously. He was suddenly feeling very blunt.

He gawked at him. "No, seriously, what do you mean?"

Ted lifted his hands up in front of him and held them together as if he'd just stopped mid-clap. "We," he slowly pulled his hands apart, "split up." Perhaps a visual aid would help him realize.

Simon gave him an obvious look. "I get that, you git, but what in the bloody hell happened?"

He sighed. "You knew we've been fighting a lot lately. It just came to a head and…" He shook his head. "Whatever."

"Did you call it off or did she?"

"We sort of agreed on it." He shrugged. "But I guess I brought it up first, so me."

Simon looked away as if he was taking everything in. Like Ted, he'd already had several drinks that night, so he was probably taking a few extra seconds than normal to process things. "Shit…"

"Yep."

"You okay?"

Ted smiled and held up his pint glass. "I'm working on it."

He stared at him, a look of mild concern in his eyes. "Seriously?"

He sighed and looked at the floor. "It sucks."

"Yeah, I bet," he said as he gave Ted a sympathetic pat on the back. "Come on, between my birthday and your crap situation, we can probably manage a lot more drinking before this night is over."

Ted awoke the next morning to his head throbbing like he'd never felt before. He opened his eyes and was immediately blasted by sunlight pouring in through a nearby window. He cursed under his breath as he sat up and looked around. He wasn't in his bed. He wasn't even at his house. He was on a sofa in Simon's living room. He didn't have the faintest clue as to how he'd gotten here.

He glanced down and noticed Caleb sprawled out on the floor in an awkward position, snoring away. He rubbed his face and stood up. He felt like shit. He physically felt as though someone had literally beaten on him and then danced on his head for fun. Thinking back to the night before, everything that had happened suddenly came flooding back to him. He had done a lot of drinking, that was for sure, but worse still was remembering that he and Celia really were done. That hadn't been a dream. That had actually happened. He groaned as he made his way to the toilet.

Simon was asleep on his bed as Ted walked into his room and headed straight into the loo. He glanced up at himself in the mirror and literally had to do a double take. As it turned out, he actually looked as if someone had danced on his head. His eyes were bloodshot and his face blotchy. Half of his hair was matted to the side of his head, while the other half was sticking up in uneven patches. He ran his hand through it to try to smooth it down, but it was a failed attempt. The patches remained sticking up.

He splashed water on his face before stumbling back out into Simon's bedroom. His balance was questionable after a night of heavy drinking, and this was never more apparent than when he tripped over a shoe on his way out. He grabbed onto the wall to catch steady himself.

"Wha…" Simon mumbled as he sat up in a dazed sense of alertness, "the hell…!"

"Sorry," Ted said. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Simon squinted at him for a moment before lazily falling back onto his pillow. He groaned. "My head is killing me."

Ted grunted in agreement.

"What a night."

"You're telling me…"

"I barely remember most of it."

"I remember bits and pieces," Ted said as he leaned against the wall. "Everything after me and Celia splitting up is sort of a blur."

"Oh," he said. "So that really happened? I thought I'd dreamt that."

"No, definitely happened."

"It was fun though." Simon laughed a little. "Not the Celia stuff, but you know, everything after that."

Ted grunted again and caught a glimpse of the clock. It was eleven-thirty. "Is that clock right?"

Simon flipped over to look at what he was talking about. "That clock? Yeah, it's right."

"Shit…" he said. He walked out into the living room in a desperate attempt to find his shoes.

"What's wrong?"

"I have to go to work," he yelled.

"But it's Saturday."

"Yeah, well some of us don't get weekends off," he mumbled once he found one of his shoes. "And I was supposed to go in early today."

"Shut up…" Caleb mumbled groggily from the floor.

Ted ignored him and found his other shoe. He didn't know how he was possibly going to manage working from noon to midnight in this state. He literally felt as though a clock was lodged into his head and was obnoxiously ticking away against the sides of his skull.

"See you later," Ted called out as he opened the front door to leave. Simon said something, but he didn't hear what it was. He Apparated back to his grandmother's house and found himself taking the quickest shower that he'd ever taken before throwing on a pair of robes that he wasn't even sure were clean. He made an attempt to search through the house for something to alleviate his headache, but turned up nothing.

He grabbed his bag and Apparated to the hospital, his hair still dripping wet from his shower. He was fifteen minutes early for his shift, but something told him that Herbertson had probably meant to come in a little earlier than that when he had made mention of it the previous day.

Hazel looked up and noticed him first. She was sitting behind her desk, quill in hand and looking as if she'd been here all night. Nate was on the other side of the room doting over a hot cauldron.

"I thought you were coming in early?" she asked.

"You look like shit," Nate said as he looked him up and down. "Did you get run over by a stampeding herd of hippogriffs?"

"If I did, I don't remember," Ted said as he threw his bag down and started running his hands through his wet hair in a makeshift attempt to dry it.

"Your hair's blue again," Hazel added. "What on earth did you do last night?"

Ted stopped and realized that in his haste, he'd forgotten to consciously change his hair to brown. No one here knew he was a Metamorphmagus because he hadn't exactly chosen to share that information with anyone quite yet. One, because he didn't feel it was something to just put out there right away, and two, because the more time he spent here, the more he realized that he was a rarer breed than even he had once thought.

Apparently, there were hundreds of theories surrounding Metamorphmagus genes and how, if thoroughly studied, they may unlock a whole new realm of information that could be plugged back into antidotes and healing. The only problem was that due to how rare they were, it was difficult to find test subjects who were willing to donate their time, blood, energy, and genes to the cause…And as much as it was Ted's job to aid healing in whatever way possible, he wasn't quite ready to physically sacrifice all of that yet. Maybe one day, but not yet.

"It was just a long night," Ted said.

"Well," Hazel said as she stood up and crossed her arms across her chest. "I've had a long night as well, but I don't plan on making it longer because I have to sit here and catch you up on all this bloody dragon pox information—"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Hazel," Nate said as he stirred his cauldron. "He's got plenty of time to catch up."

"First of all, please don't let me hear you referring to my knickers in any way, shape, or form." She shot him a hard look. "Second, he really doesn't. He's got to be one hundred percent well versed in everything we've been collecting for the last year by December."

Nate rolled his eyes.

"What happens in December?" Ted asked feebly. His head was throbbing again since Hazel tended to talk very loudly.

"We go to Russia to meet with the leading expert in the field of dragon pox study," she said. "It's huge. So come and sit so we can get this started. You've got a year's worth of research to now make your best friend."

Ted closed his eyes and made a face. This was going to be the longest day ever. He really shouldn't have had so much to drink last night.

"You have to read all of this," she said as she placed roll after roll of parchment in front of him. "These are the notes that Nate and I have taken over the last year on the breakthroughs that others have discovered."

"Sorry if my handwriting's crap," Nate said.

"Then," she said, placing even more rolls of parchment in front of him. "We'll have to review each one of these case studies and potion trials one by one. We need to make sure you understand everything we've done over the last year so that you can understand where we're taking this."

Ted stared at the pile that was accumulating in front of him.

"Lastly," she said, pulling out a pile of folders. "These are the trials, experiments, and procedure protocol we need to get done by December so we can have it ready for the Russians. We'll then take this information and present it to all the research heads and Healers here at St. Mungo's." She stared at Ted. "Clear?"

He stared at her. He had caught very little of what she had just said, even though he had tried very hard to listen. "What?"

"What is wrong with you?" She started at him with a look of disdain. "Are you hungover?"

"Maybe a little."

"Oh, for the love of…" She abruptly stood up and walked over to the ingredients' cupboard. She then pulled several items out and took them over to where Nate was working. She started mixing several of them together, but Ted didn't bother to follow what she was doing. He instead took the opportunity to put his head down on the nice, cold table.

"I swear," she mumbled. "First you, now Ted. I'm dealing with children."

"Oh, give it a rest," Nate said. He sounded amused. "He's eighteen and he's all but sold his life away to this place. If we got more time off we wouldn't have to crawl in here hangover."

"Is that the excuse you're pulling out of your arse?"

"Yes," Nate said. "And while I'm grabbing at things up people's arses, would you like me to grab the stick that's up yours? It sounds as if it's wedged up there fairly tight."

Someone slammed a glass down on the table that Ted's head was currently resting on. He winced before looking up. Hazel was standing there with some disgusting brown liquid. She was glaring at him. "Drink."

He stared at it. "What is it?"

"Just drink it."

He hesitated until he saw Nate nod. "It'll make you feel better."

Ted took it and examined it before pinching his nose and drinking it. He was pretty confident that it would have tasted better on the way up than it did on the way down.

"You know what?" Hazel said as she swiveled around in her chair and glared at Nate, their current spat clearly not over. "I'm leaving at one o'clock regardless. You can sit here and catch him up."

"Fine," he said coolly.

"All by yourself," she added.

"I bet we'll get more work done that way," he said with a patronizing smile.

"You are the world's biggest prat."

"Of course…" Nate muttered. Ted knew nothing good would come from this, but Hazel and Nate were doing it to themselves. They always did it to themselves. He was starting to wonder if the two of them needed to have their shifts separated with the amount of arguing they did.

"That stuff you drank will start working in about a half an hour," Nate said to Ted after a long silence. "You'll feel fine." He put down the silver ladle he was using to stir his cauldron with and stared at him. "So, what'd you do last night that was so wild and crazy? Don't spare any details."

"It was one of my mate's birthdays," he said as he caught Hazel rolling her eyes. "I didn't have plans to really drink that much."

"Clearly…" she said sarcastically.

"Yeah, it tends to happen like that," Nate said. "But you as long as you had a good time."

Ted shrugged. "Not really. My girlfriend and I split up on top of everything, so it wasn't as much fun as I would have liked."

Hazel stopped what she was doing and looked at him, but Nate simply shook his head. "You'd been with your girlfriend for awhile, right?"

"Almost two years."

"Rotten luck," Nate said before he went back to stirring. Hazel nodded.

Ted shrugged again. "What can you do?"

"We can't really blame you for going out and getting smashed then, now can we?" Nate said as he glared at the back of Hazel's head.

It was almost as if she knew what he was doing without having to look at him. She suddenly rolled her eyes and made a face. "There's no excuse," she said matter-of-factly, "but, I suppose I can be a bit more sympathetic. Just don't do it all the time, would you?"

"Yeah, Ted," Nate said. "Stop getting your heart broken so it doesn't interfere with Hazel's day."

"It's not—" Ted began, but Hazel was already interrupting.

"I hate you," she said to Nate before she turned back towards Ted. "Don't be a screw up like Nate."

"I'm in no way a screw up and you know it." He laughed. "I just enjoy taking the piss out of you because you make it so easy with your 'I'm better than everyone!' attitude."

"I do not have a—"

Ted had reached his wits end. Between his headache, having to be reminded once again that his relationship had gone to shit, and the two of them bickering, he felt as if he could scream. "I really don't think this potion is going to work if I have to keep listening to the two of you," he muttered.

Nate stifled a small laugh while Hazel stared at Ted. She seemed slightly surprised that he had spoken up. He usually chose to let everyone just battle their own issues out without saying much, but he was in no mood today. He put his head back down on the table and enjoyed the momentary quiet that was bound to be short lived.

"Hey, Ted?" Nate asked.

"What?"

"Why's your hair blue again?"


	5. The Secret's Out

Ted was busy over the course of the following month. That's not to say that he wasn't always busy, but it was a new sort of busyness. For the first time since he'd started his job, he was beginning to get used to his weird schedule of sleeping during the day and working the night, or vice versa. In fact, once his body adapted, he felt as if he was starting to experience weird patches of energy that he hadn't felt previously. He wasn't as lethargic anymore, and it was a refreshing feeling to not have to spend his days in sleepy daze.

He also felt as though he was bouncing back from his breakup fairly well. The first couple of weeks had been a little tough due to the new feelings of loneliness that seemed to be present around him, but it got better. He did still miss the little things though, like the hugs and the feel of holding someone, or having the ability to sleep next to someone…He'd also be kidding himself if he claimed he didn't miss the sex, but as much as he did, he missed the other stuff more.

"Well, in all honesty," Simon told him while they both sat in Simon's living room one night listening to a Quidditch game on the Wireless and eating junk food. "You don't need to be with someone to be with someone…if you know what I mean."

Ted let out a doubtful laugh. "Yeah, I should just go pick up some girl and take her back to my grandmother's place?"

"I'm sure lots of girls would get a kick out of that," he joked.

"Right…" he said sarcastically, wiping his hands on a napkin and listened to the low voice of the Quidditch commentator. "And I'm sure it'll be that easy since I've always been such a ladies man."

"I think you'd be surprised," Simon said. "It's easier than you think." He stuck a chip in his mouth. "I mean, it's not like school. There are a lot more girls to choose from. People are more opened minded than they were back at Hogwarts."

"How do you figure?"

"Well, look at me." He shrugged. "I couldn't pull anyone at school, but I've had some luck since. I've chatted up a few girls and what not. Plus, you're better looking than me, so you shouldn't have any problems."

Ted smiled and tried to hide his laughter. "Gee, thanks Simon."

"I'm just trying to boost your confidence so you get out of this hermit phase you've been going through."

Ted laughed and looked at the radio. "I don't know. I'm definitely not ready for anything serious right now, but at the same time…" He trailed off. He knew he should be concentrating on his career and that he really had no time for girls, but they were so pretty. It was hard to keep his mind off of them for long. "I need to be single for awhile."

"Yeah. Single," he agreed. "But you can still be single and hook up."

"You've got a one track mind."

"Of course I do," he said obviously. "I'm actually happy you're single. Now you can come along and we can pull girls together."

Ted rolled his eyes. "It's only been a month since Celia and I split up."

"And how much time do you need?"

"Dunno. Couple months, maybe?"

"Oh, bollocks," he said. "I bet we could go out right now and you could run into some incredible girl and you'd forget all about this 'needing months to recuperate' crap."

"Maybe," he shrugged, "maybe not. I mean, if the perfect girl comes along, I'm not going to let the chance slip away, but," he sighed, "I'm not looking. I don't have time to look."

"Those sound like excuses," Simon said as they both got quiet to listen to an exciting play in the match. Once is had concluded, he added, "Have you started looking for a new place to live yet? I'm sure your grandmother is itching to get rid of you."

He laughed. "I've got Sunday morning off. I was planning on doing it then. I think I'm just going to get the first place I find. I'm not going to search all day for something."

"Right," he said. "You just need a place to lay your head. And obviously bring girls back to."

Ted stared at him. "You really need to get laid so I don't have to listen to you anymore..."

Within the next week or so, as December got underway, Ted had finally found himself a new place to live in Diagon Alley. It wasn't a large flat, but it was safe looking and mostly tidy. It had a small living area with a bedroom attracted, and a small kitchen that maybe two people could fit in if they positioned themselves correctly. His Grams, Harry, and Harry's friends Ron and Hermione had all donated furniture to help Ted get started, and Harry had even gone so far as to buy him a work bench so he could do work at home.

"I'm sure it's the last thing you'd want to do," Harry said as he and Ted observed the bench once it was set up. Albus and Lily were currently exploring the new place and had just come running back into the room from the bedroom. "But we all end up bringing our work home with us sometimes."

Ted smiled.

"Hey Teddy," said Albus as he and Lily plopped down on the sofa, "your room is smaller than mine. How funny is that?"

"What are the odds?" Ted joked.

"Lil," Harry said, pointing at her. "Did you bring Teddy his present?"

"Oh yeah!" She hopped up and walked over to where she had placed her cloak.

"You got me something else?" Ted asked, glancing at Harry. "Between the workbench and the sofa—"

"Oh, the sofa was Ginny's pleasure," Harry said. "She has been looking to get rid of that thing for ages."

Lily appeared in front of Ted with a sloppily wrapped, small, rectangular object which she held out to him. She smiled widely.

"Open it," Albus said from the sofa.

"It's from the kids," Harry added.

"I wrapped it," Lily said proudly.

"And you did a fantastic job." He tousled her hair and started to pull the paper off. Inside was a picture of James, Lily, and Albus that looked to have been taken about a year ago. They were all smiling up at him from the frame while James and Albus were taking turns playfully shoving each other behind their sister's back.

"So you don't forget about us," Albus said.

Harry and Ted laughed. "Just because I got my own place, doesn't mean I'm going to stop coming to visit anytime soon."

"But you're all grown up now," Lily said. She stood on her tiptoes to observe the photo in his hand. "Where are you going to put it?"

"Well," he said as he looked at his workbench, "how about on the end here?"

She nodded her approval. "I think that's a good spot."

"Me too," he said just as he caught the clock. It was nearly noon, which meant he had to be at work soon. Harry seemed to read his mind.

"All right you two," he said, gesturing to the kids. "Let's go down the street and visit Uncle George at his shop."

"Do you think Freddie is going to be there?" Albus asked as Harry helped Lily into her cloak.

"We'll have to see," he said with a smile at Ted. "See you later, Teddy."

"Bye Teddy," Lily and Albus said as they both waved goodbye.

"Bye," he said to the group of them as they left and shut the door behind them. He sighed and blew a stray piece of shaggy hair that was hanging in front of his eyes out of his face. He took his time getting ready since he really didn't feel like rushing to work today. Milling around a bit, he made himself a sandwich to kill some extra time, just as a sudden tapping noise at the window made him look up. A brown owl was sitting on the outside edge of his window, beating its beak against the glass. Auggie immediately jumped out of his open cage and started making loud, throaty owl noises at the new visitor. Ted shooed him away before opening the window to let the owl in.

"Be nice," he mumbled to Auggie before putting his sandwich between his teeth and dislodging the letter from the owl's leg. Both Auggie and the brown owl were now staring at the sandwich and clucking at him expectantly.

"There's the owl food," he said pointing to Auggie's cage. "Help yourself."

They both stared at him. Auggie snapped at him and his sandwich.

"What's gotten into you?" he said before turning to the letter he had been sent. It only took him a second to realize who it was from. Victoire had always had the neatest handwriting he'd ever seen.

Hey Ted,

I didn't get a response after my last letter, but you're probably really busy. Did you get it?

He looked around. She had, in fact, written to him about two weeks ago because he remembered getting it, but he had been on his way out when he received it and told himself that he would read it later. He must have forgotten about it. With the move, he'd probably lost the letter all together.

Anyway, I'm just curious how things are going with you because I haven't really heard from you in ages. Last I heard, you had gone and become a workaholic. I guess you were right about that whole not having a life thing after all. But I've already mentioned all of this in the other letter I sent you, so I won't bother repeating it.

I just wanted to remind you (or tell you, on the off chance you didn't get the first letter) that as you know, my birthday (17!) is coming up and my parents have agreed to throw me a party. I don't know how much notice you need to get a day off, but I'd love it if you could come. I feel I haven't seen you in a hundred years. Also, remember that I went to your party, so it's only fair that you suck it up and come to mine. You've been warned.

Hope all is well. With love,

Victoire

Auggie was nipping at the sandwich residue on Ted's fingers and suddenly bit him hard. Ted pulled his hand away and glared at him before realizing the time. He had to go if he wanted to be at the hospital on time. He gathered his things and Apparated immediately to the hospital. Hazel and Magda were both busy at work when he arrived, but they both smiled at him as he entered.

"'lo Ted," said Magda as she scribbled away at something.

"Hi Ted," Hazel said, looking fairly preoccupied as she busied herself over a cauldron.

"Hi." He walked over to see what she was working on. "What are you doing?"

"Wolfsbane," she said. "Poor fellow got bit last night. They brought him in this morning."

Ted stared into the cauldron and felt instantly jealous. He'd never gotten the chance to make Wolfsbane because of the complexity involved in its brewing. As the most junior member of the team, he often got passed over when the chance arose. It seemed no one wanted to get bit and brought in while he was alone on his own shift, thus forcing him to do it. That was probably a good thing, though.

"Quiz time," said Hazel, catching Ted's eye.

Ted groan. She'd been doing this every time they worked together in an attempt to make sure Ted was spending every waking minute studying the dragon pox documents. Nate seemed to trust Ted enough to take his word for it; Hazel, however, seemed to need to have him prove it.

"Third symptom?" she asked.

This was an easy one. She always gave him at least one easy one. He ran through the symptoms in his head: First were green spots on the body, second was fever, third was—

"Vomiting," he said

"What are the chances of the virus being fatal if not treated?"

"Seventy percent."

"And the chances of avoiding the harsher stages if treated immediately?"

"Eighty-five percent."

She smiled at him. "What is the third stage of treatment according to Grobner's method of healing remedies…?"

This went on for ten minutes. He didn't quite see why he had to run the gauntlet of questions when everyone knew that Hazel had everything ever thought, proven, researched, mentioned, or known about the dragon pox virus memorized. Nate seemed convinced that she knew more about the subject than half of the senior Healers and specialists.

"You've been studying," she said, using the moment to add some strange powder to her cauldron in a very precise manner.

"I told you I have," he said before he walked over to his desk and noticed a patient file sitting there from a Healer. Apparently, someone needed a Pain Deferring Potion brewed since they were running low. He grimaced. If he had to share the cook station with Hazel while he brewed this, she was bound to ask him a hundred more questions about dragon pox. Just his luck. He sighed and gathered everything he needed before setting up across from her.

"How's your new flat, Ted?" asked Magda.

"Settling in," he said as he quickly started chopping up ginger root. His knife skills had become exceptionally proficient over the last few months. He felt as if he was worlds faster than he had been in school.

"You're going to cut your finger off one day," said Hazel, observing him from across the station.

He grinned. "Someone will reattach it." He poured the ginger into the cauldron and tapped his wand to the side to heat it up. He then splashed some leech juice and began skinning a Shrivelfig.

"That'll be quite a nasty scar if you do," she added.

Ted just barely stopped himself from mentioning that he didn't really scar on account of him being a Metamorphmagus; instead he hummed in agreement

"Oh, by the way," said Hazel. "I forgot to tell you. Herbertson finalized our plans for the dragon pox seminar in Russia."

He looked at her and waited for her to continue.

"We leave on the 23th of the month. We'll be back on the 26th. Then the 31st is the big presentation that we have to give for everyone back here."

He continued to stare at her. "Of December?"

She nodded.

"You mean we'll be away for Christmas?" he asked, dropping his Shrivelfig skins into the cauldron. It hissed as they hit the liquid below.

"Sadly, yes," she said. "This makes two years in a row for me."

He groaned and threw another Shrivelfig skin into the cauldron, causing it to start bubbling fiercely. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Sometimes I wonder if Herbertson does it on purpose," Magda said from her desk. "It's as if we don't work enough, he needs to take people's holidays away from them, too."

Ted's annoyance began to rise as he sat there thinking about that very sentiment. She was right. It was bad enough that he spent almost all of his time here as it was; now he had to spend Christmas in a foreign country halfway across the world?

"Ted," Hazel said, pointing at his cauldron. "Did you reduce the heat after adding the skins? It's bubbling an awful lot."

He turned and noticed she was right. In his haste and annoyance, he had forgotten to reduce the heat after adding the Shrivelfig. That only meant one thing.

He reached hastily for his wand, but it was too late. In that instant, the liquid inside of the cauldron shot out with an explosive fervor. Hazel screamed and just managed a lid on her own cauldron to prevent spoiling her Wolfbane. She had backed away against the wall to avoid the liquid getting on her, but Ted hadn't been so lucky. He had jumped out of the way of most of it, but several drops had caught onto the sleeves of his robes and the ends of his hair. In this state, the potion was highly flammable and within seconds, he was on fire.

"Oh my god…!" Hazel yelled just as Magda came over and immediately yelled "Aguamenti!" Ted couldn't tell what was happening. He was too busy attempting to throw his robes off and smother the fire around his head.

"Stop, you're spreading it!" Magda yelled. "Hazel, get over here and help me!"

Ted could feel the heat and pain around his ears and face just as the smell of burning hair suddenly filled his nostrils. It took a few seconds for him to realize that the heat was slowly subsiding and being replaced by the cooling sensation of water. Soon enough, it was gone entirely. All that remained was a stinging pain around his neck.

"It's out," Magda said.

Ted lowered his robes after having awkwardly positioned them around his head while trying to escape them. He was sopping wet and beads of water were dripping off of every part of him.

"Are you okay?" Hazel asked, now looking rather pale.

Ted reached up and touched his neck and the tips of his ears. They were extremely tender and felt slightly raw to the touch. "Is it bad?"

"Nothing a little burn potion won't fix," Magda said as she examined him. "They don't look too serious."

"Jeez, Ted…" Hazel said in a shaky voice.

Ted looked around and noticed the mess of water that was everywhere. "I cannot believe…" he mumbled as he reached up and touched his hair. One entire side had been burnt down to the roots. The other side had been signed and felt crispy in his hand.

"We should probably take you down to the burn ward and have you checked out," Madga said.

He nodded just as Herbertson appeared from his office. He looked around. "What on earth…?"

"Just a bit of an accident, sir," said Hazel quickly. She made a sweeping motion with her wand and started cleaning up the puddles of water.

"Lupin, what happened to you?"

"Potion exploded," he said, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and pain—literally-in his neck.

"It happens to the best of us," Magda said, seemingly sensing the embarrassment in his tone. "I mean, we've all had stuff like this happen. Come on. Let's go and get you looked at by the Healers. They'll have you fixed up faster than any of us could."

"Your hair caught on fire," Herbertson said. Ted wasn't sure if he was asking him or telling him this, but he was now shaking his head. "I warned you about accidents like this being prevented."

"Come on," Magda said as she led Ted away and down to the burn ward. There, an older male Healer examined Ted's neck and ears and told him that the burns weren't serious. He only needed to apply a burn potion to his neck for the next few hours or until he noticed the skin reforming.

"It'll be a bit painful," said the Healer as he applied the first bit to him, "but they really aren't terrible. Nothing like some of the dragon burns I see in here."

Several of the nurses and Healers that Ted knew from doing rounds on the ward poked their head to see what had happened. Some seemed sympathetic, while others had a laugh at his expense, particularly the ones who took notice of his hair. He had a feeling it must have looked ridiculous.

After forty-five minutes of being doted over, he was given a bottle of burn potion—which he may very well have brewed months earlier— and a set of lime green robes to replace his now ruined ones. Once released, he made his way straight to the lavatory. He found a mirror and gawked upon seeing his reflection. Besides the nasty looking red burns around his neck and ears, he looked absolutely ludicrous. He had half of a head of hair.

He reached up and touched a patch of scalp. It was a little red, but had avoided getting burnt. He took a deep breath and morphed his hair on the spot. The length was evened out on both sides and shortened considerably from his usually shaggy way of wearing it. He wanted to prevent this from ever happening again. He took his hand and pushed the hair around to make it seem more normal before staring at the final product. Reaching up, he tried to grab at it, but for the first time in years, there wasn't a large handful of hair to grab at. As strange as it was to see, it was still a far better site than the mess that had just been on his head.

"As good as new," Magda beamed once Ted had returned to the lab. He smiled appreciatively at her. However, Hazel was staring at him curiously.

"You burned half your hair off," she said as she pointed. "How on earth did it grow back so fast?"

"They obviously gave him something," Madga said.

"They wouldn't have so soon after he was burnt," Hazel said obviously. "They would have waited for him to heal."

She shrugged. "Maybe things have changed."

"And even if," she continued. "There's no way that much hair would have grown in less than an hour."

Magda opened her mouth to offer a possible solution, but Ted cut her off. The jig was up. He might as well tell them before they ended up arguing over possible scenarios for the rest of the afternoon.

"They didn't give me anything," he said, running his hand over his head and taking a deep breath. "I did it."

"You did what?"

"I grew it."

They stared at him.

"I'm a Metamorphmagus."

Both of them continued to stare in silent shock for a moment before Hazel mumbled, "Are you really?"

He rubbed his nose as if warming it up, then quickly changed it into several various shapes. Magda's jaw dropped as Hazel continued to gawk.

"That's incredible…" Hazel said. "I've, of course, read about people like you, but I've never met one!"

Ted forced a smile, even though he absolutely detested hearing the phrase, "people like you."

"Why haven't you said anything?" Magda asked.

He shrugged, but didn't answer. He didn't really feel like explaining his reasoning since it made him appear rather selfish.

Hazel laughed as she pointed to his hair. "How fortunate for you. I was worried that you'd have to shave your head and I didn't think you'd be able to pull that look off."

"Have you ever had people ask you to sit for studies?" Magda asked almost eagerly. It seemed that the researcher in her wasted no time.

Ted nodded and thought of his grandmother. Throughout parts of his life, she'd randomly had people ask if they could study him for whatever the reason. It had never been a big issue since she always refused—saying that she knew exactly how to deal with these people after having gone through the same thing with his mother. She didn't want someone poking and prodding him or making him feel as if he was anything but normal, even though he knew he wasn't. He supposed now that he was one of those very people who had pestered his grandmother years and years ago, he was a bit of a hypocrite for not putting himself out there to gain knowledge from.

"There are theories out there," Magda continued. "That the Metamorphmagus gene can be broken down and used to—"

Ted stared at her, already fully aware of where this was going. "Are you going to study me now?"

She looked taken aback. "Not without your permission, of course. It's just so rare to find someone with your abilities, and to have one right here—"

"Is that the real reason you didn't tell anyone?" Hazel interrupted. "You were afraid we'd turn you into an experiment?"

"Ted," Magda said, cutting Hazel off and not looking all together pleased that she had tried to defer the subject. "This is what you do for a living. You have th...this...this,"—she stammered in an excited manner—"gift! You have a gift that if utilized properly could revolutionize medicine and healing!"

"We don't know that…" Hazel said to Magda. "They're just theories. There's no proof that in breaking down the components of a Metamorphmagus gene structure that you'd find all these hidden secrets that could help—"

"Do you get sick?" Magda interrupted to ask Ted.

"I mean, people have tried," Hazel continued as she ignored her. "It's not as if Ted's the first one ever…"

"I get sick," Ted said. He was already weary of this conversation. "Not a lot, but I do get sick. I'm not immortal or insusceptible to harm, as you can see." He pointed to his burnt neck. "I can just change the way I look."

"Yes!" Magda said loudly, causing both Hazel and Ted to take a step away from her. "You can morph your genes. If we could harness that ability, think of how we could change viruses or diseases? We might even be able to transfer that power to morph defective genes."

"Like the werewolf gene…" Hazel said slowly. She cast Ted a knowing look. He stared at her. One second earlier, she had been supporting the, "It means nothing, it's just a theory!" idea, but now it seemed as if she was just as curious to explore this as Magda was. On top of that, she was deliberately playing at his aspiration to cure the werewolf gene since she had been the only one that he had told that to. She knew exactly what she was doing. He had to give her credit…Because it worked.

"What do I have to do?" he asked begrudgingly.

Magda beamed and immediately ran off to find the tools to collect a blood sample.

"It'll just be a little blood to study here and there," Hazel offered. "That's all. We're not going to ask you for bone samples or anything like."

"Yet," he mumbled.

"Hey," she said. "Wouldn't it be worth it if you could be the one who cured the defectiveness in the werewolf gene? Or something else? You'd go down in history."

Ted made a pained face just as Magda returned with a needle to collect a blood sample. He stuck out his arm. Sure, it was his dream to cure the werewolf gene, but he didn't think he'd really have to make such a personal contribution to the matter other than hours of labor and hard work. Pouring your blood, sweat, and tears into your work was supposed to be just an expression.

As it turned out, Ted's true colors didn't stay quiet for long, but he never expected them to. Over the next few days, everyone he worked with—or just so happened to associate with at St. Mungo's, including the Healers, nurses, mediwizards, and some maintenance workers—all now knew him as the Metamorphmagus kid. To some, that was an amusing novelty. To others, they seemed almost annoyed that he hadn't chosen to tell them sooner.

"You didn't tell anyone," Nate said as they walked along the second floor in order to observe some of the dragon pox patients. "Tsk, tsk. Keeping secrets..."

"I wasn't aware I had to share my life story," Ted said as he followed him into a patient room.

"When you're a Metamorphmagus working in a healing research lab, you do." He suddenly pulled a curtain back and was met face to face with a middle aged woman who was covered in green pox. "Good morning, Mrs. Feeney."

A groaning noise escaped the woman's lips as she turned her swollen face towards the pair of them. She had been admitted just days before with full blown dragon pox. Apparently, she had neglected her symptoms and decided that if she just ignored it, it would go away. It was a more common occurrence than one would think. Sometimes, even a fatal one.

"We've brought you some of this," Nate said, holding up a bottle and flashing a smile. As usual, he was turning on the charm. It was something he tended to do around any and all women, sick or not.

"Whaaaaizit?" she mumbled.

Nate looked at Ted and gestured for him to tell her. The closer they got to their trip to Russia, the more Nate had started to adapt to a Hazel-like method of putting him on the spot.

"It's a Swelling Reduction Solution," Ted began, just as a Healer-in-Charge suddenly entered the room followed by a crew of several Trainee Healers. He hated being put on the spot around the Healers. "Um…It'll help decrease the swelling around your body."

"And we've also got this," Nate said before his attention was suddenly diverted to some of the more attractive girls in the group that had just entered. The Healer-in-Charge, a no nonsense older woman by the name of Pullman, caught his eye and began shaking her head. Nate immediately stopped smiling and turned his attention away from the girls.

Healer Pullman stepped forward and smiled at Mrs. Feeney. "Your husband felt as if we should try the experimental route since your condition doesn't seem to be improving under normal treatment." She glanced from Nate to Ted and then back to Feeney. "It's had very successful results."

"Tremendously successful," Nate said. "The trails we've run have helped individuals in far worse condition that you're in currently completely recuperate."

"Thank you, gentlemen," Pullman said politely. "We'll take it from here." She turned back to her Trainee Healers. "Now, who would like to administer the potion?"

Nate elbowed Ted and nodded towards the exit. He followed him out, but watched as Nate's eyes lingered on one of the female trainees in the room. He'd had his eye on her for ages, but then again, Nate had his eye on a lot of girls. It was hard to keep track.

"That one is incredibly sexy," Nate said once they were out of earshot. "Fantastic arse, don't you think?"

"Yeah, it's nice," Ted said absently as he walked over to file several forms at the nurses' station.

Nate continued to stare at him. "Oh, come on. Don't act like you didn't look."

Ted smiled, but didn't say anything. It was impossible not to look, but he didn't necessarily have to shout it from the rooftops like Nate did.

"See, you're not so saintly after all," he said, nudging him in his ribs. "You don't have to be gentlemanly all the time, Lupin."

"Please don't listen to him," said a passing young nurse with red-hair named Agnes, who had always been of great help to Ted on the ward when it had come to adapting to life outside of the lab and around the patients. "The last thing we need is men being talked out of being gentlemen." She gave Nate a matter-of-fact look.

"Agnes!" Nate said with his trademark smile. "Want to go to dinner with me?"

"No," she said just as quickly as he had asked. Nate had a tendency to ask most of these girls out every other day and it was always the same story. He did seem particularly stuck on Agnes though, but Ted had a feeling that was because she always gave him the most amusing responses.

"You know," Nate said to her, "one of these days you'll realize what a catch I am."

"One of these days…" she said in a bored tone as she pulled several supplies out of a nearby cupboard. "But tell me Nathaniel. Is my bum as nice as whomever it was you were just talking about?"

Ted snorted a laugh as Nate made a sheepish face at having been overheard. He bounced back quickly, though. "Nicer," he said with a smile.

"Well," she said as she turned to walk off to another patient's room. "Feel free to watch me walk away then, because that's as close as you're going to get."

Ted smiled, but Nate simply shook his head and turned to him as she walked away. "She'll come around."

"Clearly," Ted said sarcastically. "I can tell she really wants you."

"Yeah, I think so, too." He nodded. "Either way, come the start of January we'll get a whole new set of Trainees Healers in here to look at. So, if she won't come around, at least they'll keep me busy."

"There's going to be new trainees?" Ted asked as they walked back to the lab. He'd gotten so used to the same familiar faces on this ward that the change would actually be strange.

"Yeah, they spend six or seven months on each floor studying and training," he said. "We get a brand new crop once the new year starts. I hope they're mostly girls. Attractive ones…"

Ted shook his head. "What would you do to pass the time if they weren't?"

"You know…" he said in all seriousness. "I have no idea."


	6. Simon's Dinner Detour

Before he knew where the month of December had gone, the night before Ted left for Russia had suddenly crept up on him. He'd never left the country before, so for that, he was sort of excited. On the flip side, he was still more disappointed that he'd have to miss Christmas. As Magda had told him though, it wasn't guaranteed that he would have gotten the day off anyway even if he was home. After all, a hospital never sleeps. Still, being away from everyone while they were all together was a crap feeling.

"Just come over when you get back," Harry had told Ted as they sat around in his living room catching up. Ted had taken to stopping by Harry's on the evenings that he had off since it was the only opportunity to catch Harry when he wasn't at work. Sometimes, he stopped by so late that the kids would have already gone off to bed.

"Yeah, but being away for Christmas still isn't something I'm looking forward to," Ted said. "I don't even speak the language over there in Russia."

Harry shrugged. "It's no big deal. I'm sure the kids would love an excuse to have two separate occasions to open presents..."

Ted's grandmother's response had been similar to Harry's. However, when Ted had confessed to her that the idea of her spending Christmas alone was unsettling to him, she had laughed at him. Literally laughed at him.

"I won't be alone," she said, shaking her head. "You know I may be getting old, but I'm still social. I still get out there, Teddy. I have friends."

"I didn't mean to say you didn't—"

"You're only going to be gone a few days," she added. "When you get back, we'll do something. Don't you worry about me."

As it seemed, everyone was fairly accepting of him being away for the holidays, which he had to admit was a tad bit surprising. He was hoping they would have put up a little resistance to him having to go. A few, "Do you have to?" or "I can't believe you'll be halfway around the world on Christmas!" would have been nice. Even Lily Potter, who Ted had assumed would be upset since she always used to bawl her eyes out when he left for school, had just sighed and said it was, "too bad."

As he stood in his room packing his bag, he began wondering if he'd remembered everything. The only instructions he was given were from Hazel, and all she had said was to, "Bring some nice things to wear or I will hex you into a million pieces. We have to make a good impression and I won't have you and Nate looking like you had just rolled out of bed…"

Ted had never been one for dressing up much. He owned one pair of dress robes and they were a little short on him, seeing as he bought them before his last growth spurt. Most of his day-to-day robes and clothes he had owned for ages now, but considering that some of them were a bit ragged and worse for the wear—and because he was under the threat of being hexed into pieces—he forced himself to go shopping earlier that day for the first time in over a year.

As he packed away the three new robes he had bought for himself, a knock at the door jarred his senses. He checked his watch. Simon was supposed to have been there a half an hour previously, but for him, being a half hour late meant he was early. He's never been one for being punctual.

"It's open!" Ted yelled as he walked into his living room.

Simon appeared from behind the open door. He looked pink face from the cold as he shook some snow off of him. "Hey, you still packing?"

"Yep," Ted said as he walked back into his room to finish up. "Is it still snowing outside?"

"Yeah, but it's not so bad. Nothing compared to what you'll have to put up with tomorrow."

"I can't wait…" he said sarcastically.

"Those new?" Simon asked, pointing to the top of Ted's bag where his new robes were sitting.

He nodded. "I went out and bought them today."

"Nice…" he said with an impressed smile. "Step up from what you're used to buying."

"I figured I should spend what little money I have and get nicer ones." He closed his bag and zipped it up. "Try to be an adult and look professional."

"Eh," Simon said, "who wants to be an adult?"

"Not me," Ted said as he grabbed his cloak and threw it on. He opened the door to leave. "So, where are we going to eat? The Leaky Cauldron?"

"What about the Dragon's Breath?"

Ted stopped on the stairs that led out of the building and looked at Simon. "That's more of place to go drinking. I thought you wanted to eat?"

"They've got food there," he said quickly.

"Yeah, I guess," he said. "But I don't know how safe it is to eat. Plus, you know how busy that place gets."

"I'm just tired of the Leaky Cauldron," he said in a strange tone.

"We could go somewhere else."

Simon bit his lip and looked hesitant.

"Is there a reason you want to go to the Dragon's Breath?" Ted asked in a way that reminded him of talking to James and Albus when they were little and he was trying to coax something out of them.

"Sort of."

Ted shrugged. "So, just say it."

"Let's just go and I'll show you."

Ted watched as Simon suddenly led the way out of the building and out into the snowy street. What on earth could be so important to Simon that he would request to go to that grimy little pub on a Friday night when he knew it would be packed full of…? Then it hit him.

"This is about a girl, isn't it?"

Simon hummed and kept his pace just a few steps ahead of Ted's.

"Simon, I'm actually really hungry. Could we first eat somewhere not so dingy and then swing by? I swear I'll tag along if I can just get some decent food in me."

"She may not be there later."

"Who may not be there?"

"This girl I work with," he said as they neared the pub. "And they've got food here."

Ted rolled his eyes. Simon had lured him out on the pretenses that they were going to grab dinner, yet here he was off to find himself some girl that he happened to fancy and dragging him along for the ride. That was all well and good for Simon, but he was still hungry.

They reached the pub and walked inside where they were immediately met by the smell of stale alcohol and pipe tobacco. The place was dark and crowded with some of the strangest sorts of people around. That's not to say there wasn't a fair array of normal looking folks there also, but the strange ones were just bizarre enough that you barely paid attention to the normal.

"You want something to drink?" Simon asked.

"I'd rather have something to eat," Ted mumbled as his stomach growled loudly. Simon was barely listening, though. He had already begun making his way to the bar. Ted reluctantly followed as Simon ordered himself a pint. The bartender, who only had one eye and looked as though he had descended from a troll, stared at Ted as if to ask, "What do you want?"

With his empty stomach and a Portkey to catch at eight o'clock in the morning, he didn't feel much like drinking. "Water."

The bartender made a face. Simon looked at Ted as if he'd just uttered something offensive. "Water?"

He shrugged and yelled over the noise. "What do you all have to eat here?"

The bartender threw him an annoyed look before ignoring him to go about his business. Just then, Simon suddenly swatted him rather hard on the arm. "There she is."

Ted turned around and looked in the direction Simon was indicating. There were at least ten girls he could have been talking about standing in between them and where ever 'there' was. "You'll have to be a bit more specific, Simon."

"See that table over near the wall?" he asked. "The one with the three girls? She's the one in the middle."

Ted scanned the three girls in question and settled on the middle one. She was a round faced girl with jet black hair, soft sorts of features, and a pretty smile from what he could tell on this side of the room. He nodded. "Okay, I see her."

"That's her," he repeated.

"Great. So, who is she?"

"I work with her," he said as he continued to cast quick glances in her direction.

"Yeah, you mentioned that, too," Ted said with a smirk. Simon's sudden awkward nature was rather amusing since he was usually the secure one between the two of them. "Go talk to her."

Simon took a nervous breath. "I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Ted asked. He was beginning to feel his mood get crankier the longer he went without eating. "The reason I'm not eating right now is so you can talk to her. It's why we came, so get over there."

"I wouldn't even know what to really say," he said thoughtfully. "We don't talk too much at work, and even then it's always just polite conversation."

Ted gawked at him. "Well, I hope you're not asking me for advice, because in case you've forgotten, you're the one who's always known how to talk to girls. As corny as it can be sometimes."

"That's not true."

He laughed. "Right. Where's Victoire when I need her to prove a point?"

"Victoire's different," he said. "You and I both know that was never going to happen. It's different when I'm actually putting myself out there." He hesitated and watched the group of girls. "I don't know."

The bartender chose that moment to suddenly place a glass of water down on the bar beside pair of them. He smiled a very condescending smile at Ted before turning away to tend to other customers. Ted looked down and noticed that glass was filthy.

"Well, either go over there or let's go," Ted said as he grew more and more tired of this place by the minute. "I'm starving and I think the bartender has it out for me."

"All right, well come with me."

"What do you need me for?"

"What? Are you going to stand here and chat up the bartender instead?"

Ted considered this and realized he had a point. "Fine. Whatever." He gestured for him to lead the way. "Just do it."

Simon took a deep breath and exhaled loudly. "Fine." He smiled confidently and walked over towards the group of girls. Ted briefly hesitated in order to let Simon get several steps ahead of him. By the time he did catch up, Simon had already greeted the group of them. Given the looks on the girls' faces, Ted wasn't sure why Simon had been so nervous. All three were smiling pleasantly at him.

"What are you up to?" asked the girl sitting to the left of the one Simon had his eye on.

"Just in the neighborhood," Simon said as he pointed to Ted. "My friend here lives around the corner and we were just out and about. This is Ted, by the way."

Ted smiled and gave a quick wave. "Hello."

Simon pointed to the girls. "These are some of the girls from my department," he said as if he were pretending he hadn't already filled Ted in on all the details already. "From left to right, that's Amelia, Susan, and Imogen."

"Hi," said the girls in mixed unison.

Ted glanced at Simon as he stood there not saying anything. The girls all smiled from Simon to Ted to each other as if waiting for someone to say something. For the first time since Ted had known Simon, he didn't seem to be commanding the attention of everyone around him. He just stood there, seemingly lost for something to say.

"Well…" said the one called Amelia.

"We should probably be going," Simon said abruptly as he gestured between Ted and him. "Stuff to do, you know?"

"It was nice seeing you," said Susan with a smile.

"Yeah," he said as he smiled before making a haste, albeit slightly awkward turn to walk away. "See you all on Tuesday. Happy Christmas."

"You too," said Susan as he walked off.

"Nice to meet you all," Ted said quickly before following after him. Simon was already back leaning against the bar by the time he had caught up with him. "Well…That went well."

"Shut up."

"What got into you?" Ted asked in a genuinely curious manner. "I think I can safely say I've never seen you freeze up like that."

"Shut up."

"Fine," Ted said as he leaned against the counter top and decided to not further the discussion. "Can we go eat now?"

"Yeah, fine," he said dejectedly. "Just let me finish this." He held up his beer.

Ted sighed happily. "Finally."

"You could have said something you know," he said. "Over there, I mean."

"I could say the same thing to you," Ted said, trying to hide his smirk.

"I'm glad you're enjoying this," he muttered.

"What'd you want me to say?"

"I don't know."

"You're beating yourself up for nothing," Ted said. "Go back over there and talk to," he stopped and glanced back at the table, "Susan, right? Go back over there and talk to her if it's bothering you so much."

"I don't know why I'm acting like this," Simon said. "Being nervous and awkward…I'm acting like you."

Ted made a face. "Hey. I like to think I've gotten better."

"How would you know?" he asked. "The last girl you asked out was Celia. Two years ago…"

"Don't take your poor mood out on me," Ted said. "It's not my fault you froze up over there."

Simon averted his eyes and suddenly made himself very interested in a notch in the bar top. He began thumbing it absently.

Ted sighed. "I'm telling you, you're overreacting. It just seemed like you stopped by to say hello. Those girls probably didn't think anything of it."

Simon continued thumbing the notch as if he wasn't paying attention. Ted looked away. Simon obviously needed a minute to gather his thoughts and beat himself up a bit, but knowing him as well as Ted did, he knew he wouldn't stay like this for long.

As he let Simon mull over his thoughts, Ted glanced around the bar to people watch. A strange man in a cloak was holding a meeting of sorts in the corner with a group of people who, if Ted had run into them in a dark alley, he would have immediately turned and walked the other way. There was a group of older wizards with long, grey beards smoking pipes and laughing about something at another table, while a large group of middle aged witches all sat talking loudly and acting quite drunk in the middle of the room. They had clearly had enough to drink.

He glanced down the bar top to the various people that were sitting there. A couple was snogging quite passionately on the stools next to him, while the men next to them were talking in hushed whispers and looking rather angry. Ted was just beginning to contemplate how fascinating the characters that pubs tended to produce when an unexpected sight caught his eye. He immediately turned his back on it and slunk down on the stool. "Shit…"

Simon looked up. "What?"

He gave him a serious look and nodded his head down the bar. "At the end of the bar."

Simon leaned forward to see what he had meant. An instant later, a look of recognition crossed his face. "Celia's here."

"No kidding," he said as he chanced a look down the bar towards her. It was the first time he'd seen her since they had split up.

"Is she with someone?" Simon asked.

Ted had just been wondering the same thing. She was talking to some familiar looking bloke that he couldn't quite place, but he wasn't sure if she had come with him or if they had coincidentally run into one another.

"I think I've seen him around the Ministry," Simon said. "I don't know him, but I think—"

As he said it, Ted realized where he knew him from. He had been there on the night of Simon's birthday. He worked with her and had been the one to claim that he had thought Celia had made him up.

"He works with her," Ted said as he turned back to him. "I recognize him." He bit his tongue. "Are they together?"

"You mean are they together-together or did they come together?"

He stared at him.

Simon shrugged. "I can't tell."

"I really don't want to run into her now," Ted said as he ran an anxious hand through his hair. He had felt pretty confident that he had moved on from Celia and their relationship, but the thought of her with someone else already wasn't something he had been prepared to think about. It'd only been a couple months.

"I thought you two ended on decent terms?"

"Doesn't mean I want to see her with her new boyfriend," he mumbled, rubbing his face and glancing at the door she was currently standing next to. "That's the only way out, isn't it?"

Simon nodded. "To be honest, I doubt she'll even recognize you with your hair as short as it is now."

"Yeah, but why risk it when I can do one better?" he said. In that instant, Ted changed his appearance on the spot. He shrunk himself down several inches and morphed his face, hair, and body to what he assumed would be the complete opposite of what he usually looked like.

"That's always so weird," Simon said once he was done.

Ted stood and began making his way towards the door. Celia and the guy were still talking, but in his attempt to not stare, that was all he managed to notice. He pushed open the door and stepped out into the night, immediately taking notice of the snow that was falling from the sky. It was coming down hard now. He was so busy staring at it that he almost didn't notice that Simon hadn't followed him out.

He turned back to watch the door as several people poured out, none of which were Simon. In fact, Simon didn't appear for a good three or four minutes after the fact.

"What the hell?" Ted asked once he approached Simon. He was slowly morphing back into his old self.

"Celia saw me," he said. "She stopped me to say hello."

"Oh," Ted said, sounding more surprised than he would have liked to. He didn't want to push the matter of her and the new guy because he really didn't want to care, but there was a part of him that was curious. Simon seemed to sense this.

"The bloke." He shrugged. "John something or other, she just introduced me to him, but she didn't call him her boyfriend or her date or anything. She just said that they work together."

"Oh," Ted repeated.

"But she may not have wanted to say anything because of you," he said. "Because she knew I would tell you."

He nodded. "I'd almost expect her to think you would tell me regardless."

"Well," he said slowly. "I mean, let's say he is her boyfriend. That means she's moved on, which only goes to show you should be, too."

"I have moved on," Ted said defensively. "I barely even think about her anymore."

"Well, I meant to other people."

Ted stared at the snow that was quickly accumulating on the ground. On any other day, he would have rolled his eyes and told Simon that he wasn't in the mood to hear this, but for some reason his words resonated at that moment. If Celia had already found someone new, then maybe he really was being stupid for not getting himself back out there. The thought of her having fun with a new guy while he sat around on his own was somewhat depressing.

"She also asked how you were," he added. "She told me to tell you that she hoped you were doing well."

"Oh, fantastic," he said lazily as he glanced down the street. For whatever reason, hearing that irked him. He knew she was probably just trying to be cordial, but for whatever the reason, it seemed as though she was rubbing something in his face. As if she knew Simon would deliver news of her and some new guy having a night out, having fun, and hoping poor Ted was doing just as well as she clearly was. He was probably just so hungry that his mind was on the brink of delusion, but at that moment, he made a decision. Simon was right. It was about time that he put himself out there again. He needed to stop being lazy. Come the new year that would be his new goal.

Now he just needed to find the girl.


	7. Russian Bets

"The hospital is next door," Hazel said once she, Nate, and Ted arrived in Russia. They'd only just arrived at their inn five minutes previously, but Hazel was already going full speed as far as preparing them to work was concerned. "After we get settled in our rooms, we should probably Apparate over since the snow outside is piling up too high to walk."

"We have to go now?" Nate asked as he dropped his duffle bag onto the ground. "We just got here. We haven't even dropped our things off yet."

"We've got a meeting with Healer Dunayevsky in an hour."

"Gesundheit," Nate joked.

Hazel rolled her eyes just as the elderly Russian innkeeper walked over and said something in Russian that Ted didn't even pretend to understand. Hazel nodded as she took two keys from him.

"Rooms are ready," she said.

"Since when do you speak Russian?" Nate asked.

"Since when is that any of your business?"

"It's called small talk," he mumbled. "Jeez, Hazel."

"Here," she said as she handed Ted a key. "That's for you and Nate."

Nate made a face. "Why do you get your own room?"

"Because I'm not sharing with either of you," she said. "Two boys. One girl. You do the math."

"I don't think that's very fair," Nate said, glancing at Ted. "What about you, Ted?"

He shrugged. "I don't really care."

"Making something out of nothing," Hazel said under her breath. "As usual, Nate." She grabbed her bag and made her way towards the stairs. "We'll meet back down here in a half an hour to go over things before we head over there. Okay? And make sure to look presentable."

Ted nodded.

"Yes, ma'am," Nate said with a quick salute. Hazel gave him one last disinterested look before she disappeared.

"She's too much sometimes," Nate mumbled before grabbing his bag. Ted almost wanted to point out that it wasn't just her who was too much sometimes, but he decided it was probably better to avoid the discussion that may result. He'd already braced himself for several days worth of arguments at the hands of those two.

Once upstairs, Nate pushed open the door to their room and they both peered inside. Two beds, a large wardrobe, and a table. The simple décor looked at if it was ages older than anything Nate or Ted had been alive to experience, but at least it looked clean. They couldn't really complain.

They got dressed and discussed whether or not they should open the window or not, since their room was swelteringly hot, but then decided against it once they noticed how hard the snow was coming down outside.

"Looks like it'll be a white Christmas," Nate said as they both leaned against the window frame and peered outside.

"A very white Christmas at that," Ted said before checking the time. "We should go downstairs."

They both made movement to leave the room. As they shut the door behind them, the door to the room next door opened and out came Hazel. She was dressed much nicer than she usually was. Nice enough to the point that Ted almost didn't recognize her given that he was used to seeing her in the typical shabby work garb they all wore.

"Nice to see you two listened," she said as she observed them both. "You look very professional."

"You too," Ted said. Nate made some sort of noise, which Ted took to mean that he agreed, but at the same time he couldn't tell.

"Okay, so Healer Dunayevsky will be expecting us and then give us a tour of their facilities," she said as she assumed her usual no nonsense tone. "Then according to the rest of the itinerary, tomorrow we'll have lectures and seminars. Then Monday we'll have no real plans since its Christmas, but we should get together and plan out everything we need for the seminars on Tuesday morning before we leave…"

Ted started to tune her out as she led the way down stairs. They'd been over this a hundred times. He could only listen to it so many times before he went mad. He looked at Nate, who seemed to have a glazed sort of look in his eyes as if he wasn't really paying attention, either. His lack of smartarse comments was the biggest indicator of the fact that he wasn't really listening.

"The hospital is next door," Hazel said as Ted tuned back in. "So just Apparate over there and I'll see you in a second." She nodded quickly and disappeared seconds later. Nate glanced at Ted.

"Just wait until she gets around the important people," he said before he suddenly disappeared, too. Ted almost wondered what he meant, but as he Apparated to the hospital, it soon became abundantly clear.

"We're waiting for a translator for you two," Hazel said matter-of-factly once they reached the hospital waiting area, "since you obviously don't speak Russian."

"Obviously," Nate said with a glance around. Just then, as a short, chubby man with a happy looking face appeared in the waiting room. He immediately started pointing at them and said something that Ted didn't understand, but it made Hazel smile widely.

"'ello," he said in a heavy Russian accent. "You must be the Englishmen," he smiled and looked at Hazel. "And woman."

"I'm actually Irish, not—" Nate began, but Hazel stepped on his foot in an attempt to silence him. He made a pained face before throwing her a dirty look, but he didn't say anything else.

"I am Dmetri," the man said with a belly laugh. "I am your translator. Do none of you speak the language?"

"I do," Hazel said quickly. Nate mouthed "I do," in an attempt to mock her that so only Ted could see. Ted smiled a little, but tried to focus his attention on the Dmetri fellow.

"Good!" Dmetri said pleasantly. "Alvays nice to hear. Now vot are your names?"

"I'm Hazel Gilbert," she said as she pointed to Nate and Ted. "This is Nathanial Connolly and Ted Lupin."

"Vonderful to meet you," he said as he shook their hands and gestured for them to follow. "Come. Let us go and meet Healer Dunayevsky. He is expecting you."

"Excellent," Hazel said as she stepped forward to walk alongside of Dmetri. Nate and Ted followed behind as they were led down the corridor and up to a lift. The hospital here was very different from St. Mungo's. The atmosphere was colder and stonier, and the colors were grayer than the stark whiteness of St. Mungo's wards. The Healers and nurses all wore robes of bright blue as well as pillbox hats that looked rather strange on many of the larger male employees.

Dmetri led them down another corridor and into a large waiting room area with stark stone walls that were lined with torches. Several lamps lit the room and made the torches seem a little useless, but Ted didn't really question it.

"Cozy," Nate mumbled under his breath as he sat on a sofa between Hazel and Ted.

"Nate…" Hazel said.

"It is a little dungeon-esque," Ted said. Nate nodded, but Hazel merely gave them both reproachful looks.

"Healer Dunayevsky vill be vis us in a moment," Dmetri said as they all forced polite smiles at each other. "So, you all are vell versed in dragon pox then, yes?"

Hazel smiled. "As well versed as we can be."

"And you?" he asked pointing at Ted. "You have said nothing."

"Oh, I…" he began, just as the door opened and in walked a tall, leggy, blonde woman with the most porcelain white skin that Ted ever seen. Her skin only offset her eyes, which were this intensely memorizing shade of blue. He'd never been one for blondes, or for just outright gawking at attractive women, but something about this woman made him want to throw all reservation out the window. He literally felt as if his jaw could drop at any second.

"Take that in…" Nate whispered to Ted. He was having a similar reaction except that his eyes were practically bugging out of his head. Ted suddenly hoped that he didn't look as ridiculous as Nate did. Hazel made an annoyed clicking noise with her tongue and glared at them both.

The woman smiled at all of them before saying something in Russian to Dmetri. He laughed heartily, which only made Ted wish more than anything that he could speak Russian.

"This is Mila," Dmetri said. "She is Healer Dunayevsky assistant."

"Hello," she said with a heavily attached accent. She turned and said something else to Dmetri.

"She speaks no English," he said, "But vould like me to velcome you to our hospital and inform you that Healer Dunayevsky vould like you to meet him upstairs in his personal office. If you vould just follow her."

Nate and Ted exchanged grins that said that they would all but follow her to the ends of the earth if she happened to ask. Nate bolted up. In his haste to the front near Mila, he ran smack into Hazel.

"Sorry Hazel, didn't see you there," he said without taking his eyes off of Mila.

"You're an idiot," she said before glancing at Ted. He was watching Mila too, but had enough sense not to make it so blatantly obviously. She gave him a scolding look. He smiled innocently—as a child who had just been caught doing something they shouldn't have—but she merely continued to glare. "You are too."

"I think she's part veela," Nate said before he rushed to catch up. "You can't fault us for what we can't control, Hazel!"

"Yeah," Ted said as he decided to go with that excuse, even though he didn't actually believe it. "You know, I think he's right." He smiled and took a few steps around an annoyed Hazel before hurrying to catch up with the others.

"You know," she called after them. "As long as you both think with your proper heads once we have to start working, and not the ones in your trousers, then I don't care how stupid you make yourselves look!"

While in Russia, a funny thing happened to Ted. Somewhere along the way—he wasn't sure where—he had been surprised to find out that he had actually learned a thing or two about dragon pox. He'd assumed that he'd memorized a lot about dragon pox over the last few months, but he wasn't aware that it had actually stuck or that he could actually make cognitive statements about the subject. Yet here he was. Theorizing, offering his opinion, and participating in discussions with one of the world's most renowned specialists on the subject. It was as if he'd been doing this for years.

"Look at the rookie," said Nate on Christmas night as he, Hazel, and Ted sat in the dining room of their inn pouring over the pages and pages of notes they had taken over the course of the last two days. "We better watch out for this one, Hazel."

"You mean, you better watch out," she said as she smirked and handed Ted a stack of parchment to organize. "But I have to say, Ted, I didn't think it was possible for you to retain a year's worth of information in, what?" She looked at Nate. "Two and half months?"

"Impressive, Lupin," he agreed. "Healer Duna-what's-his-name didn't believe me when I told him you'd only been working with us for the last few months."

"Dunayevsky," Hazel corrected.

"Gesundheit."

She stared at him. "That joke wasn't funny the first time, or the second, or the fiftieth."

"Thanks," Ted interrupted, attempting to curtail any further arguments. "I didn't know I had it in me, but I guess I really am getting this stuff."

"Don't sell yourself short," Hazel said. "You did well." She looked at Nate who was trying to balance his quill on the tip of his finger. "I would say you did too, but I'd feel as if I was somehow lying."

The quill fell off of Nate's finger. "You don't have to say it, I know I did well."

"Honestly, Nate," she said as she stood and gathered several stacks of notes. "A little modesty from time to time wouldn't hurt."

"Eh." He shrugged as if he couldn't be bothered. Hazel made a face and turned to Ted. "I'm going to sit over there," she pointed to a table, "and sort through these notes."

"Why over there?"

"I get more work done on my own," she said. "Just finish that pile in front of you. Oh, and Nate?"

"Yes, dear?"

She cringed before muttering, "You finish that one."

"Sure thing," he said with a grating smile, just as Hazel made a point to knock into his chair as she walked away from them.

"You know," Ted said once she was across the room, "we'd probably get loads more done if you two didn't go at it all the time."

"Someone's got to challenge her or else she'd go all dictator on us," Nate said. "Telling us what to do and how we should do it."

"She already does that, though."

"Yeah, but at least when I give her shit for it, she thinks I'm not listening. Therefore, she doesn't think she has some sort of superior hold on me." He pointed to the stack of parchment in front of him. "See that. I can organize that information in less time than she can."

"So, why don't you?"

"Because she'd go mental," he said. "Being the efficient one is her thing. If I stepped on her toes and became not only the efficient one, on top of being the funny and charming one, what would she have left?"

"Maybe Hazel was onto something with that modesty talk," Ted mumbled.

"We all have our positions," Nate continued. "Linus is the hardcore, no nonsense or fun one. Paul's the laid back, lax one. Magda's the batty, mental one. Hazel's the efficient, bitchy one, and then I'm the funny, charming one."

Ted stopped the absent shuffling of the papers he'd been doing to lean back in his chair. "What's that make me, then?"

Nate's face contorted and he began staring at Ted as if he was trying to read him. After a long minute, he finally answered, "You're still too new to really tell, but if I had to peg you as something now, I'd say the quiet, but eager one."

"Eager?" Ted was a little put off by that label. He didn't necessarily consider himself eager.

"I have to wait for your spirit to really be broken before I can tell," Nate continued before he threw his quill down atop his stack of parchment and looked lazily around the dining area. Given that it was nearly dinner time, the tables surrounding them were starting to fill up with various lodgers who didn't have anywhere else to go on Christmas evening. A table full of girls took to a spot not far from where Ted and Nate were currently parked, and immediately, Ted found his gaze meeting Nate's face. As expected, Nate was already eyeing them.

"When was the last time you got laid, Lupin?" Nate asked out of nowhere.

"Wow…" Ted said as several involuntary blinks escaped him. "That's appropriate how, exactly?"

"I like to think we're friendly enough to talk about this sort of thing," he said, his eyes still on the girls. "So, how long has it been?"

Ted shook his head. "I don't really talk about stuff like that with—"

"If you haven't done it, just say so," he said with a dismissive shrug. He turned back towards the girls. "You're still young."

Ted looked slighted. "Oh, I've done it."

"Oh," he said in an absent manner, as if he was simply humoring him. "Yeah, I'm sure."

Ted's eyes narrowed as if he'd been challenged. He knew full well that Nate was goading him-just because he could-but he'd already taken the bait. "I have."

"Answer the question, then," he said bluntly. "When was the last time?"

Ted looked down at the table top, where he was now absently drumming his fingers over and over again as his thoughts raced back to when he'd last done the deed. "About three months ago."

Nate made a noise of acknowledgement as he seemed to consider this. "With your ex?"

Ted nodded, though with an awkward start, went immediately back to searching through his notes. He still wasn't sure how they'd got to talking about this.

"That's almost as bad as me," Nate said with a heavy sigh, his gaze now turning back onto Ted. "A little over two and half months here. It seems like an eternity, doesn't it?"

"I wouldn't say an eternity—"

"I just think I should do something about it," he said matter-of-factly, throwing Ted a particular look that Ted had a feeling he was supposed to understand...even though he didn't. What exactly he was playing at? Or rather, what exactly did Nate want him to contribute to this conversation? Perhaps he simply wanted someone to hear him talk, considering he was already back to ignoring him and again staring at the table of girls across the room.

"I-"

"You know, there are a few really attractive women here tonight," Nate interrupted, clearly off in his own world of thought.

Ted mustered a lazy grin. "Knock 'em dead."

"What about you?" he asked.

Before he'd even properly processed the question, Ted has already let out a doubtful laugh. "Unless you can somehow get Mila the Russian assistant over here, I'm not really game to be picking up girls in this-" he looked around the old, dark dining room, "dump."

"Aw, that group over there is cute," Nate said, pointing. "And there's one or two over there."

"Well, don't let me stop you," said Ted as he suddenly found himself amused by all of this. "Even though I don't think you'd be able to pull any of them anyway."

Nate rounded back on him in a flash. "I bet I would," he said, as if he'd never been more sure of anything more in his life. "How much do you want to bet?"

Ted considered this. He wasn't much of a gambler, but after watching Nate try and fail on so many different occasions with girls, this could be the easiest money he'd ever made. Money he could definitely use since it was Christmas time, but also money he couldn't afford to lose since it was Christmas time.

"I don't have a lot of money," Ted said.

"I don't make much more than you do," Nate said. "Trust me, I know." He screwed up his face as if he was considering something. "How about ten Galleons?"

Ten Galleons wasn't exactly pocket change, Ted thought, but having an extra ten Galleons around would definitely be nice. With a careful glance, Ted looked over at the group of girls and had a sudden gut instinct that Nate was being set up for disaster.

"Okay. Ten Galleons," he said. "But I get a say on who the girl is."

Nate laughed. "Tell you what, I'll even let you pick."

"Oh, really?" Ted asked, now feeling as though he could actually feel the money in his pocket. If he had all the say...

"Why not?" Nate shrugged. "The worst you can do is pick some old bat who looks desperate and alone, and that would only make me ten Galleons richer. On the other hand, you could pick someone insanely attractive, which would be worth losing the money for right there." He smiled. "So, pick anyone."

He smiled. "All right, you cocky prat…"

Nate laughed and gestured around the room for him to pick someone, as if he were simply picking an item off a shelf. Ted stood and began scanning the room intently, staring at each and every girl and wondering who would be the best one to take Nate's ego down a few sizes and make him a richer man. He searched each table for the old, the young, the pretty, and the hags-actual hags-but none really stood out. No one in particular stood out as a sure thing. Well, that is until his eyes traveled to a nearby table where a certain girl sat alone...

"Anyone?" Ted asked as he cast Nate a forewarning look.

Nate smiled smugly, his overconfidence now practically oozing out of his ears. "You better pick wisely, Lupin."

Ted smiled in a satisfied sort of way before he sat back down. With an almost gleeful inflection in his tone, he looked Nate straight in the eyes and said, "I choose Hazel."

Nate's smile faltered. "Oh come on, seriously."

"You said anyone," Ted said with a straight face, though he was already contemplating what he could do with the extra money. He still had to get Harry's kids presents for Christmas, so he could certainly use it to do that.

"Yeah, but you knew what I meant."

"You said 'anyone'," he repeated. "You didn't say anyone but Hazel." He nodded towards her. "So, either get to work or pay up."

Nate looked over his shoulder, where Hazel was busy fussing over her paperwork and oblivious to the things that were transpiring just beyond her. He grimaced a little and made a helpless sort of noise. "You've got to be kidding."

Ted smiled. It probably shouldn't have felt as rewarding as it did, but there was just something about one upping Nate that was ever so satisfying.

Nate took a deep breath and started to stand. "If you say so."

The smile immediately fell off Ted's face. "Wait, what?"

Nate shrugged. "A bet's a bet."

"You're actually going to try?!"

"A bet's a bet," he repeated, and with that, he started to make his way over towards her.

Ted literally gaped. He had expected Nate to admit defeat and pay him, not actually give this a go. He wasn't even sure he wanted to see this, but he couldn't turn away as he watched Nate sit down across the way from Hazel. This wasn't actually happening...was it?

The second Ted saw the look of-what could only be appropriately summed up as-determination cross Nate's face, the same look he'd seen him muster around the nurses at the hospital before pitifully flirting with them, he couldn't bear to watch anymore and began gathering his things. It was probably better to avoid the awkwardness that this was about to create since he wouldn't be able to concentrate from this point forward anyway. By the looks of things, they'd probably be having a raging row in the middle of the dining room in ten minutes time. It would be easier to just leave now rather than pretend he didn't know them.

"I'm going upstairs to work," Ted said as he passed by their table, finding himself unable to look at Nate.

"For the night?" Hazel called after.

"Yes," he called back without another word, taking to the stairs to his room before anything else could be asked of him. As he entered the small room he shared with Nate, he quickly dumped all of his stuff on to the table before a fit of strange laughter-all caused by what his imagination was picturing to be going on downstairs overcame him. If he had someone else to watch the display with, he might have taken some pleasure in the entire thing. As it were though, it would just end up being a ridiculously embarrassing encounter for everyone involved. He didn't even want to think about how pissy Hazel would be in the morning after dealing with an obnoxiously persistent Nate for half the evening.

Upon catching his breath and regaining his composure, Ted lazily thumped down onto his bed and pulled out a book on magical gene replacement therapy that Magda had insisted he read in order to get him more excited about all the "fun" experiments they could do to him. It was supposed to take his mind off of everything else, however, he was only three pages in before he wished he'd brought a few Quidditch magazines with him.

"Best Christmas ever…" he muttered as he found himself almost smiling at the ridiculousness of it all. He certainly hoped that everyone else was having a lot more fun than he was.

It had either been his current exhaustive state or the book that had done it, but somewhere in between page thirty-seven and page thirty-eight, Ted had drifted off to sleep. He had only woken up due to the noise of church bells from somewhere nearby, and upon opening his eyes, he found the book he had been reading the previous night was now sandwiched between him and the bed. Half of the pages had been bent unorderly due to having been slept on.

He sat up facing the wall and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Using the little daylight that was trickling into the room, he looked down and his watch and tried to focus on the time. It was 6:15. He'd been out for hours.

"Hey Nate," he mumbled. "You should get up. We've got to be at the hospital in an hour, so—" He stopped once he turned towards Nate's bed and realized he wasn't there. In fact, his bed was empty and still looked as untouched as it had the night before.

In a sleepy daze, Ted turned back to the wall and blinked a few times. He was trying to get his mind to wake up and figure out where Nate would have—

His eyes shot open in alert. "No…"

A half hour later, Ted was already downstairs and half done with a soggy egg breakfast when Nate appeared on his way down the stairs. He immediately spotted Ted and smiled. It almost seemed as if he was walking with a spring in his step.

"No way," Ted said before Nate had managed to speak. "There is no possible way."

"Oh, but there is." He smiled. "Pay up."

"I don't believe you," Ted said.

"Where do you think I spent the night, then?"

"For all I know, you slept in the snow," he muttered as he gestured outside. "You probably would have to prove a point."

He smiled. "I didn't sleep in the snow."

"You didn't sleep with Hazel either," he countered. "I'd believe you slept with Herbertson before I'd believe you slept with her."

Nate made a face that feigned being insulted before he helped himself to some coffee. "That hurts you know. It doesn't make the fact that I did spend the night with Hazel any less true, but it still hurts."

"You're full of crap."

"Ask her," he said without flinching. Given the seriousness in his expression and tone, if this had been any other matter in the world, Ted would have believed he was actually being serious.

"No way…" Ted mumbled, just as he caught Hazel coming down the stairs towards the both of them. She didn't look angry, horrified, or ashamed; all three of which Ted would just assume a girl would feel after having been with Nate.

"Morning," she said as she placed her things down on the table and started pulling rolls of parchment out. "Okay, so our Portkey home leaves at four and we've got just a few seminars at the hospital to attend before then—" She stopped once she caught Ted staring at her. "What's wrong?"

His stare was nothing less than accusing. It was as if he was waiting for something to happen. Waiting for her to claim how ridiculous Nate was and how she would have never, ever, in a million years, have spent the night with him. Not for all the money in Gringotts.

Nate suddenly laughed into his coffee cup.

Hazel immediately glanced between him and Ted for a moment before her face fell a little. It was as if something had dawned on her.

"Did you tell him?"

"Oh, you're kidding me…" Ted said slowly, his head suddenly dropping to the table with a small, defeated thud. "You actually did."

"You did tell him?" she said as her voice grew annoyed. "Not that it was any of his business, but you told him?"

"He's a clever guy, he would have figured it out," Nate said as he now attempted to feign innocent.

"And that's officially the last time," she spat before letting out an aggravated scoffing sort of noise. Ted heard the sounds of her things being grabbed aggressively, and looked up just in time to see her storming off.

A slightly guilty look crept across Nate's face as she walked off, but when he caught Ted staring at him, he bounced back. "Need more proof?"

"Wait, wait, wait…" Ted said, the thought of what Hazel had just said echoing in his ears. "That's officially the last time?"

He shrugged. "She always says that."

Ted's brow furrowed. "For that to have been the last time," he said in a forced tone, "there would have had to have been other times. Otherwise, it would have been the only time."

Nate pursed his lips together as if he was thinking about how to break bad news to him. "Ted, have you ever stopped and wondered why Hazel and I are always at each other's throats?"

"No," he said in the same forced tone. "I just thought you were both mental."

He sighed. "Well, I'm not saying we're not, but other than that, there's a lot more history there than you know."

He glared at him.

"There's a history there," he repeated, and for the first time, he seemed sincere when he talked. Not at all as cocky or full of himself as he usually was. "She and I dated for a while."

Ted's expression remained stony. "What...?"

"Yeah," he added, nodding slowly. "We broke up sometime last year."

"How was I supposed to know that?"

"I didn't say you were supposed to," he said. "Although it's not exactly a secret. Given all the bickering we do, you'd almost think it was obvious."

Ted's fingers shot to eyes, where he immediately began rubbing them out of frustration. "That doesn't change the fact that she…" He stopped and shook his head. "Hazel hates you."

Nate made a face. "Well, hate's a strong word. We just don't always get along for reasons that would take me all day to explain." He bit his lip. "Messy sort of breakup, you see. Still, for whatever reason, there's always a little something between us that doesn't seem to completely disappear. And we both work long hours, and we don't have a lot of time to date other people…So, if we both happen to catch each other in similar moods, then the next thing you know, one thing leads to another…" He trailed off and smiled. "She always ends up regretting it and saying she'll never do it again, but as you can see—"

"I'm such a sucker," Ted said, suddenly kicking himself for not having bothered to ask either of them, in all the time that he'd watched them argue and bitch at each other, why they didn't get along. Not once. "You even pretended as if you were at some huge disadvantage when I picked her."

"You picked Hazel, not me," he said. "I made that bet as fair as I could. You could have picked anyone."

"Yeah, but you could have said something."

"You didn't ask," he said simply.

It was the truth. He hadn't asked and he could have picked anyone, but he had gone with what he thought was the easiest and most obvious choice which came back to bite him in the arse. He'd been had...by Nate.

With that, he reached into his pocket and dug out the last five galleons he had on him. He put them on the table before muttering, "That's all I have. I'll get you the rest later."

"I'm not taking the last of your money while you're stuck in a foreign country," Nate said, draining the last of his coffee before he stood. "I'm not evil, Lupin. When we get back, I know you're good for it. No hard feelings, right?"

Ted stood and begrudgingly shook his head. "I did this to myself. I should probably start paying more attention to people."

"I don't enjoy taking your money." He smiled. "Okay, well maybe a little."

Ted set his gaze lamely onto the floor. "I really should have picked the hag…"


	8. A Random Reunion

Ted threw his bag down and lazily collapsed on his sofa after yet another grueling day at work. He'd only gotten back from Russia the night before, but he'd already had to be back at work at nine o'clock this morning for the day shift. Worse yet, a potions explosion at the Ministry had brought in twenty employees earlier in the afternoon and kept him busy well after when he should have been done for the day.

He closed his eyes. He was tired, but he also wasn't. His mind felt as if it was racing. He didn't know why considering he should have been exhausted. He had to be up at five A.M. to do inventory at the lab and he knew he should have been forcing himself to sleep. Instead, he was watching the hands on the clock tick off minute by minute. 10:05 turned into 10:06, turned into 10:07…10:08…10:09…

He sat up. He had to find something to do besides wasting time watching the minutes tick by. Standing to grab his cloak, he figured he could swing by Harry's for a bit and see how Christmas went without him. An hour spent there was bound to burn off some of his frustrated energy.

He Apparated on the spot and seconds later found himself outside of Harry's front door. He wasn't supposed to Apparate onto the front step, seeing as Muggles could take notice, but it was late and he just didn't feel like worrying about that at the moment. Glancing up and down the street for any signs of life, Ted saw nothing except for a stray cat dashing across the road.

As he approached the front door, he searched his pockets for a key to the house. Harry had said it was better that he just let himself in at this hour; instead of bothering to knock and possibly waking the kids if they were already down. He fished the key out of his pocket, placed it into the keyhole, but struggled to turn it. He stood back and stared at it. For some reason it had jammed.

He stared up at the door and hesitated knocking. It was after ten, so the kids may have been asleep. Given how quiet it was, this was probably the case. He didn't want to wake them up, but he didn't seem to have any other choice. Holding his breath, he knocked gently. Hopefully, Harry or Ginny would be sitting in the living room.

He bounced on the spot a little to stay warm and looked up and down the street before settling his eyes on the front window. The lights were on, so they were obviously home and awake. He knocked again and this time tried the key in the second of the two locks. That lock opened with one swift turn, and Ted returned the key to the original stubborn lock that wouldn't open. At that same moment, the sound of a rubbish bin being knocked over somewhere nearby made him stop what he was doing and look around. He was already on edge seeing as it was a creepy sort of night with the full moon overhead and the air having a bone chilling quality about it. Unexpected noises weren't exactly helping matters.

He took a deep breath and silently told himself to get a grip before he tried his luck on the lock again. After a jiggle and a forceful turn, the lock gave and finally clicked open. He turned the knob and began pushing the door open just as a panicked sounding noise made him stop in his tracks. It sounded like it belonged to a female and made Ted think that he must have startled Lily. Pushing the door open further to investigate, he called out a cautionary, "Hello?" but was abruptly met with a wand pointed directly at him. He jumped back out of the reflex. It took him a second to gather a proper look of just who the wand belonged to.

"What are you doing?" he asked as Victoire sat on the stairs, her wand still raised and her eyes closed. She still looked as if she was ready to cast at any moment. How she was going to do that with her eyes closed, he didn't know.

She lowered her wand and looked at him, a flood of realization dawning across her face. Over the course of five seconds, Ted watched as her emotions went from frightened, to relieved, to annoyed. "What are you doing!?" she asked. "You just came barging in and what was I supposed to think? I thought you were a prowler or something."

He smirked. "Do prowlers knock now?" He took a few steps towards her. "Why are you on the stairs?"

"I fell," she said grumpily. Ted reached out a hand to help her up. She took it and stood, all the while rubbing her backside absently. A formal sort of silence filled between them as Ted realized that this was the first time he'd seen her since earlier this summer. She looked different, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was since, outwardly, she seemed the same. It was something in her body language that was different. She seemed older.

"Right," Ted said in an attempt to cut the awkwardness. "Well, hi, by the way."

She stopped paying attention to her sore bum and looked up at him. She seemed to realize how amusing things seemed with her spending the last thirty seconds rubbing her arse while Ted stood by absently watching. She suddenly laughed.

"Hi Ted," she said with a smile. "I'd give you a hug, but…" She gestured to her clothes, which were heavily caked in some sort of red substance. She looked as if she'd killed someone with a cleaver.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"Pasta fight," she said with a small smile.

"It looks like a pasta war."

"Casualties on both sides," she joked.

He smiled and pulled out his wand. "Here, hold still." He stood back and said, "Tergeo." The stain lifted.

She let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you. I've been sitting in marinara sauce for hours now."

"I do what I can," he said, turning away and stepping towards the living room. It looked as if Victoire was here on her own. Harry and Ginny were nowhere to be seen. "So, what happened?"

"James and Albus ganged up on Lily and started teasing her. Lily got mad and threw her dinner. They threw theirs back and I managed to get caught in the crossfire."

Ted laughed. He could easily picture that entire encounter in his head. "Lily's a spitfire. I've told the both of them they'd better watch out for her once she's got a wand in her hand." He grinned and turned back towards her. "You're sitting for Harry and Ginny then, I take it?"

"They're at a Ministry banquet."

"And the kids?"

"Upstairs," she said nodding up towards the second story.

"In bed?" he asked. "You got them all in bed before—," he checked his watch, "ten-thirty?"

She nodded.

"Wow…" he said in an impressed tone as he thought of the numerous times that he hadn't been able to get them down before eleven. "That is quite the feat."

"Is it supposed to be hard?" she asked with a smug smile. He smiled back and almost laughed at her blatant attempt to egg him on, but didn't. It was nice to see that after all they'd been through; they could still go six months with little contact and pick right up where they'd left off. Ted looked away and scanned the room absently before looking back and noticing that she was still staring at him. It made him feel a little self conscious.

"What?"

"Your hair," she said nodding towards his head. "It's just been awhile since I've seen it that short."

"Oh." He reached up and touched his head. "Yeah, it's easier for work with all the potions and explosions I deal with. The longer hair just kept catching on fire." He made a sheepish face. "I learned that the hard way."

She laughed. "And the brown?"

"The brown?" he asked curiously, wondering what that was supposed to mean. "Oh, you mean the color?"

She nodded.

"My boss is weird. He yells at me if I do anything with it and says it's distracting." He turned and walked further into the living room. "I've just gotten used to keeping it like this when I'm working and since I just got off of work…" He trailed off and changed his hair to the more familiar blue that she was used to seeing. "So, yeah."

"It's not a bad look. It makes you look older and more sophisticated, you could say."

"Does it?" he asked with an amused smile.

She too smiled and leaned against the door frame in a casual manner. "So, what are you doing here breaking into the house at this hour?"

"I wasn't…" he began defensively before realizing that she was kidding. "My key jammed."

"Excuses, excuses, Lupin."

"I just got back into town last night. I wasn't around for Christmas and Harry had asked me to stop by when I got home."

"At ten o'clock at night?"

"It's pretty common, actually. With the hours I've been working lately, it's about the only time I do get a chance to swing by."

"How's work going?" she asked she took several steps into the living room and sat down on the sofa.

Ted thought about how he should answer that. "Good. Busy, but good. I just got back from Russia yesterday."

She seemed surprised to hear that. "What were you doing in Russia?"

"Meeting with one of the leading experts on dragon pox. It's all part of this presentation I have to give on Sunday at the hospital, which if I really got into it I'd bore you to tears. So, I won't. But I've been working on it for the last few months with some other researchers and some prominent Healers who figure that we could be heading towards a revolutionary new vaccine that could eliminate the harsher stages of dragon pox."

"Wow…" she said with an impressed smile. "Look at you, Ted."

"It's sort of exciting," he said modestly. "Most people think it's rather dull."

"I think it's great." She sounded as if she meant it. "I suppose it would have to be pretty great to keep you locked away for the last few months with no word."

Ted made a face. He had a feeling this would come up. "Yeah, I'm sorry I haven't written or anything. It really has just been crazy." He sat down opposite of her. "But how's school going? How'd you do on your O.W.L.s?"

"All ten," she said with a smile. "Including five O's"

He smiled. "Damn, that's impressive," he said as he thought about how he had only gotten four O's. "So, what are you taking this year?"

"Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Ancient Runes," she said in one quick breath.

He let out a low whistle. "Keeping busy."

"It's what I do." She laughed. "But I've managed so far."

"And how are those stupid slags—" he made a deliberate attempt to cough, "I mean, delightful young ladies you call your friends?"

He had expected an eye roll from her or an attempt to tell him to knock it off, but instead she sighed heavily. "I don't know or care. I'm trying to distance myself from them to be honest."

"Really?" he asked. This was a turn of events.

She nodded. "I'm just tired of it all."

"I've been telling you that for years."

"Would you like a prize?" she asked.

"Yes, actually, I would," he smiled, "but honestly, good for you. You're much better than those girls."

She turned away, but he saw her smile a little. "I've started hanging out with some new people. One girl in particular is really great."

"Who is it?"

"Jane Whitters. She is in my year in Gryffindor."

He shrugged at the vaguely familiar sounding name and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "Sounds familiar."

"She was in Gobstones Club for a while."

"Oh yeah..." he said, thinking back to his days spent in the Hogwarts' Gobstones Club. The image of a shy girl with mousy brown hair who hadn't ever said much suddenly materialized in his head. She'd only ever come to a few meetings. "She was a nice girl, really quiet."

"She's really sweet," she continued. "We were actually talking about you just earlier today for some reason. She told me she remembers you from back in the day." She suddenly laughed. "Oh, and you'll appreciate this. She also said she thought you were cute."

Ted smiled. "That's because I am."

"And obviously so modest," she teased. "I almost wanted her to go and get her head checked after I heard that."

His smiled disappeared. "Oh, gee, thanks, Vic."

"I suppose someone has to find you attractive," she continued to tease.

"You're going to give me a complex," he joked.

"Oh, as if you actually believe me," she said as she shook her head. "Plus, you've always got Celia to stroke your ego for you. You don't need me doing it."

Ted started cracking his knuckles and sat forward. He had forgotten that she didn't know about Celia yet. It had felt like he had told everyone, and yet, he hadn't told the one person who would probably be the most excited to hear it. He wasn't sure how he'd let that slip.

"Yeah, about that…" he began as he started rubbing the back of his neck absently. He looked at her as if expecting her to fill in the blanks. He assumed his body language was screaming the obvious, but she only continued to stare blankly at him. "No idea, huh? Not even a guess?"

"What are you on about?" she asked.

He took a deep breath and braced himself. "Celia and I split up."

Unsurprisingly, her jaw instantly dropped in complete surprise, but only for a second. She was then grinning from ear to ear.

He smiled. "I knew you'd be upset."

She opened her mouth to speak, but the words didn't seem to want to come out. She just continued to smile and look as if she wanted to laugh. Ted almost thought she would until a suddenly serious expression appeared out of nowhere on her face. "Wait, tell me you chucked her and it wasn't the other way around?"

"It was sort of mutual," he said, "but I'm the one who suggested it if that's what you meant."

"Ted!" she said as she jumped up. "It's about time!"

"So, does this mean you're happy?" he joked.

"Of course I am!" she said, still smiling. "I wish I could offer you some sort of condolences, but I'm really not sorry."

He rolled his eyes but kept smiling. Her reaction was the funniest part, though it really shouldn't have surprised him given she and Celia's history. "Tell me how you really feel?"

She stopped and stared at him. "Am I being a brat? This isn't still a fresh wound or anything, is it?"

"It happened months ago. I don't think about it much."

"Really?"

"The relationship was dead in the water for the last few months," he said. "It got to the point where work demanded more of my time and I barely had any time for her. We were fighting all the time and it just wasn't working anymore."

She nodded.

"I don't know," he said distantly as he thought about Celia and the encounter at the Dragon's Breath the night before he left for Russia. Her with some other guy…He pushed the thought out of his mind and turned back to Victoire. "We ended it on decent terms. I mean, we don't talk, but that's not to say we wouldn't."

"Here's hoping you don't," she said in a way that Ted could only describe as being "Victoire-esque." She somehow pulled off being sarcastic and endearing at the exact same time. She was still grinning at him as she sat back down on the couch.

He smiled at her. "At least I can always count on you to be honest."

"That's my job!" she said happily. "Oh, this is a really good thing, Teddy."

"I'm glad you think so." He leaned back onto the sofa and started staring absently up at the ceiling. "I've wondered a few times if I did the right thing."

It wasn't the first time Ted had thought this, but it was the first time he had said the words out loud to anyone. He wasn't even sure if it was Celia he missed, or just the familiarity of having someone around...of having anyone around. He wasn't sure why the words had just come out, let alone to Victoire, but there it was. He knew admitting it to Simon would result in nothing more than, "You need to get over it and move on," lectures, and he was almost embarrassed to admit it to Harry for similar reasons. However, the truth was, there were times where he wondered: If he had just stuck it out, would things have worked out? Would things have gotten better? Did he give up too easily?

"You did the right thing," Victoire encouraged as she made a point of looking him in the eye. There was a seriousness in her face that made Ted believe it…Or made him want to believe it. He started to smile before she followed with, "There's bound to be plenty of girls out there that will have you."

"Well, when you put it that way…" he said, now feeling put off. That was Victoire, though. She had a way about her that made Ted feel as if she completely understood him better than anyone in the world one minute, only to kill all those fuzzy feelings of understanding the next. He almost thought she did it on purpose.

"I didn't mean it like that," she said, shaking her head. "I mean that you can really explore your options now and find all sorts of girls. You're not just limited to the girls at school."

He sighed. "At the rate I'm going, unless she's in a lab or a hospital, it's going to be hard getting out there to find…" He stopped abruptly as I thought of Mila, the hot Russia assistant. Perhaps finding a girl in a lab wasn't so hard to accept after all. "Actually," he continued. "I did meet this really pretty girl in Russia. That dragon pox guy that I was telling you about, she was his assistant. She had a really sweet face. Great legs, but she didn't speak a word of English. That would have made things a little difficult."

Victoire smiled. "Perhaps we should try a little closer to home."

He grinned. "I'm just so busy with work that it's not really a huge priority. I do miss the—" He stopped short of saying sex and instead just smiled and looked away. "Nevermind."

"Sex?"

"We're not talking about this."

"You've still got hang ups talking about your sex life with me?"

"You mean lack thereof," he corrected. "And you know I feel weird talking about that with you. We just don't talk about it."

"No," she said. "It's not that we never talked about it. It's that we never really talked about Celia. See the difference?"

He laughed at her almost compulsive curiosity and wondered if she thrived on making him feel as embarrassed as possible given the opportunity. "This is not an invitation for you to start telling me about all the sex you've been having."

"Well, there's nothing to worry about there," she scoffed. "And wait, you don't really think I go sleeping around?"

Ted shrugged his shoulders playfully and tried to hide his smile. If she enjoyed taking the piss out of him so much, then it was only fair he repaid the favor.

"Honestly?" she asked as her face grew more and more concerned. Ted's smile faltered when he realized she was being dead serious.

"I was kidding," he said. "Of course I don't think that."

"You mean that?"

He stared at her and wondered where all of this was coming from. "Yes, I mean it. I know you're not like that. I was just trying to get a rise out of you, Vic."

She turned away. "I'm just…I didn't know if perhaps you'd heard something at school last year since people like to start…" She hesitated. "Colleen started a rumor like that about me last year after Tom Haines and I spent a lot of time studying for our O.W.L.s together. Apparently she was a bit jealous, but he and I honestly did nothing but study—"

"I never heard a rumor like that about you," he lied, even though he could vaguely remember Julia Summers telling a group of them about that very same rumor. However, he hadn't believed it then and he didn't want Victoire thinking that it had spread that far. It would only make her upset, which was the last thing he wanted to do. "And if I had," he continued as he now made a point to look her in the eyes. "I would have never believed it." He shrugged. "I would have also thrown all my reservations about hitting a girl out the window and smacked Colleen Lynch upside the head. I don't think she's really a girl anyway. More like a destroyer of people's souls. So I may not have had to compromise my integrity."

Victoire forced a smile.

"And is she really one to talk?" he asked. "I mean she's shagged half the castle last time I checked."

"I'm not going to stoop to her level," she said as she started nervously chewing on her thumb nail.

"It's why you're a better person," he said, smiling at her once more and getting a strong urge to change the subject to something more lighthearted. "People like Colleen are the reason the expression, 'If you want a whore, go with Gryffindor' exist."

Victoire looked as if she was pretending to be offended, but smiled none the less. "Hey now…"

He laughed. "I didn't make it up!"

"Well, I suppose that's better than 'If you want a D.U.F.F go with Hufflepuff," she said as she bounced back to her usual playful nature and smiled again.

Since she was smiling and seemingly in good spirits again, Ted decided to bite. "What's a D.U.F.F again?"

"Designated ugly, fat friend."

"Clever."

"I didn't make it up," she said as she continued smiling.

"You just need to suck up dealing with those girls for the rest of this year. Then they'll be gone."

"I know, but there's still a lot of school and a lot of dealing with Colleen left in the year."

"It goes by faster than you think," he said as he felt a little nostalgic for his Hogwarts's days.

She made a face. "Somehow, I don't think that's the case for me."

"Well, come the new year," he said as he thought of his workload getting a little lighter once the dragon pox presentation was made, "I'll actually have free time again. So, you can always write me if you need someone to bitch about them to."

"Will I actually get a response this time?"

"I'll definitely try," he said optimistically. "I swear after Sunday my life goes somewhat back to normal again. I can go out more. I can sleep more than five hours a day. I can eat normally again…"

"Wait, Sunday?" she asked as her face quickly fell. "You can't come over on Saturday then?"

"What's happening on Saturday?"

"My birthday."

He stared at her as he realized. He had completely forgotten. "Shit. Your birthday…" With everything going on, it had slipped his mind. "That's this Saturday, isn't it?"

She nodded. "Remember, my parents are throwing me a party since it's my seventeenth? I wrote about in my last letter thinking that if I gave you enough warning you could come?"

"No, I know you did," he said as he rubbed his eyes in frustration. He felt like a complete idiot. Not only had she written to him, but she had written to him twice. Not that it even mattered to begin with because it is not as if it hasn't been the exact same day for the last seventeen years. "And it's your seventeenth…"

"And your presentation is the very next day."

He looked at her. He felt absolutely terrible. There was no way that he'd be able to make it what with all the work he still had to do. He hadn't even really started the preparations for his presentation yet. There was just no time. "I'm sorry, I can't…I would, but I've just been working on this for months."

"I figured," she said as she forced a smile. She looked disappointed, but thankfully not so much as to make him feel worse than he already did.

"I'll make it up to you," he said honestly. "Now that you'll be legal, we can go out to really cool places and have a good time when you're home from school."

"Since when have you been cool enough to get into really cool places?" she joked.

Ted laughed, more because he was relieved that she wasn't mad rather than it being particularly funny. "Maybe if I say it enough, it'll come true."

She smiled. "That just proves you're not cool." She looked away. "You know, it's probably better that you don't come. You'd probably get annoyed with Colleen and Aspeth and Penelope being there and…"

"You invited them?" he asked. "You hate them, but you invited them?"

"I had to," she said. "I invited loads of people and if they hadn't been…" She made an angry gesture with her hands. "Let's just say things would have been a lot worse had they not been invited."

He checked his watch and saw that it was almost eleven-thirty. "Now I'm actually glad I can't come," he joked.

"Do you have to go?" she asked as she watched him.

"I just have to get up early," he said. "I was trying to figure out how much sleep I really needed if I wanted to hang out here a little more."

"You should go, then. Don't keep yourself up all night because of me. You and I can hang out any old time."

"Still," he said as he stood. "I feel bad about your birthday."

"Don't," she said as she stood and followed him. "I have one of those every year. You've only got so many chances to revolutionize medicine."

"You're making it sound far more worthwhile than it really is." He smiled. "I appreciate that."

"I'll see you later," she said as she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. She seemed like she was hugged him tighter than he remembered in the past, but he couldn't be sure. All he did know was that her hair smelled good.

"Maybe we can hang out and do something fun before you head back to school," Ted suggested, even though he knew the chances were probably slight. "You've never even seen my new place."

"You have your own place?"

"Oh yes," he said trying to sound faux sophisticated. "I'm very special."

"You're special all right," she teased as he stepped outside onto the front stoop.

"Tell Harry I stopped by," he said as he tightened his cloak around him to keep out the cold.

"Good luck on your presentation," she said as she leaned against the door. From this angle, she definitely looked older and even adult like, as if she did some growing up in the last sixth months, but it was probably just a trick of the light. "Let me know how it goes."

"Will do," he said with a quick wave. "Oh, and happy birthday."

"Thanks, Ted." He caught her smile just as he turned and Apparated away. Back in his flat moments later, he found himself smiling as he thought of how much Victoire had matured lately. The old Victoire would have probably done a lot more than just shrugged off him not being able to go to her birthday party like this Victoire had. The old Victoire would have claimed her life was over.

Still, it didn't make him feel like any less of a prat about the entire thing. As it were though, he'd figure out something to make it up to her.


	9. A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words

You're leaving?" Hazel asked Ted on Saturday morning.

Ted stopped packing up his things and glanced at her. He was leaving all right. Leaving as fast as his legs could carry him. He had just finished working the evening shift that was supposed to end at six in the morning, but due to Hazel coming in early for her nine o'clock shift and forcing him to stay and work on their presentation until nearly eight, he was still here. However, now he was going home and taking a nap before he had to wake up and spend the better part of his afternoon and evening putting the final touches on their presentation for the following morning.

"I need to sleep," he said wearily. "I've been here since six yesterday…"

"How can you sleep at a time like this!" she practically yelled. The pressure was clearly starting to get to her. "This presentation tomorrow is the most important thing—"

"I get it," he said as he picked up his bag, "but I'm probably not sleeping tonight and if I don't get some rest, I'll be useless tomorrow."

She made a face that made Ted feel as though he was somehow in the wrong for needing sleep. "Fine. You'll be at Nate's around nine so we can finish this, right?"

"Yes…." he mumbled as he walked towards the door.

"I'll be here until then," she called after him, "but you should probably see if you can get there earlier so that you and Nate can work on…"

Ted shut the door of the lab behind him, cutting off whatever else she had to say. He didn't even hesitate to stop and see what it was she had said; instead he carried on towards the lifts. He couldn't stop thinking about tomorrow at around noon time. Everything would be done then. Life would get back to normal—or as normal as possible—tomorrow around noon.

"Good morning, Mr. Lupin," said a familiar voice as Healer Pullman smiled at him once he got into the lift. "Coming or going?"

"Going," he said as he tried his hardest to add a pleasant inflection to his voice despite his poor mood.

"Long shift?" she asked, pulling her graying hair into a bun.

"Always."

"Well, I'm looking forward to the presentation that you, and Mr. Connolly, and Miss Gilbert have for us tomorrow." She smiled and adjusted her lime green robes. "I've heard to expect some great things. I do hope you all found out some fascinating information from Healer Dunayevskaya."

"Loads," he said meekly. He suddenly very much hoped that she didn't ask for a preview. In his current sleep deprived daze, he was having a hard time remembering his middle name let alone factoids and data.

"Excellent." She smiled as they reached the bottom floor. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow, then."

"Yes, tomorrow…" he said as he watched her walk off down a corridor, her robes whipping behind her.

He left the hospital quickly, and in his haste—without thinking properly—he found himself Apparating to his grandmother's house instead of his own. It wasn't until he walked through the front door that he even realized what he had done. In his trance like state, he had just let his instincts take him to the place that they were the most familiar with.

"Teddy?" he heard his grandmother ask before she entered the foyer and saw him. "What's wrong?

"Nothing," he said as he blinked a few times and tried to gauge his surroundings. "I meant to go home, but I just ended up here."

She looked him up and down and didn't seem pleased with what she saw. He couldn't say he blamed her since he hadn't taken much care of himself since he got back from Russia. His face looked coarse and scruffy and he hadn't showered since the previous morning. He probably reeked of potions and various draughts. He knew he had bags under his eyes and his clothes were certainly worse for the wear. All in all, he was a proper wreck.

She stepped back and took a deep breath. "You're working too hard."

"Things will get better tomorrow," he said. "I promise."

"You look like you need to eat," she said. "Skin and bones. And it's not as if you've ever been a very thick set boy to begin with."

"I'll eat when I can," he said as he turned towards the door to leave. He had managed to pull it half open before the knob was yanked out of his hand and the door slammed shut. He turned and saw his grandmother standing there with her wand pointed at him.

"I've just made myself some breakfast." She lowered her wand. "You can join me."

"I was going to go to sleep."

"You can sleep after that," she said in a tone that told him that he had little say on the matter. "Come on now." She pointed her wand towards the kitchen. "March."

Ted made a face, but didn't dare contradict her. In four months time, he would be nineteen-years-old and yet his grandmother had the power to make him feel as if he were five all over again.

"You have been eating, haven't you?" she asked once Ted sat at his usual spot at the table.

"Yes…" he mumbled in an aggravated manner, the way one tended to when being lectured by a parent. "Of course I've been eating."

"Could have fooled me," she said as she went over and started casting a few spells here and there. Moments later, he had juice, eggs, and toast in front of him.

"Wasn't this your breakfast?" he asked.

"I can make myself more," she said as she bustled around the kitchen making more food. "You go on ahead."

He picked up his fork and tucked in as he watched her bustle around the kitchen for several moments. "I heard you went to Harry's for Christmas," he said.

"I did," she said. "It was very kind of him to invite me over, so I went and enjoyed watching the children open their gifts. Then we had a lovely supper. You were missed."

He smiled lazily as he chewed his eggs. "I've got a present for you, but it's at the flat and since I didn't know I was coming—"

"It's all right, dear. Whenever you've got the time to spare for your frumpy old grandmother is fine." She grinned.

"You're not frumpy," he said with his mouth full.

"How nice of you to say," she said as she leaned against the counter and watched him. "So, tell me about Russia."

"There's not much to tell." He shrugged. "It's cold and I spent most of the time working."

She nodded as she took a seat across from him at the table. She seemed to pick up on the fact that he was too tired to really further the discussion, and it grew quiet as they both silently chewed their food. After several minutes, she asked, "So, what did you get the children for Christmas?"

"Some model castle thing for James and Albus and a book for Lily. They seemed to like them. They were good enough, I guess. I don't know…"

"What don't you know?"

"I would have liked to have spent more on them. On everyone, but I just don't have the money."

"Oh, Teddy," she said sympathetically. "No one expects you to buy them elaborate gifts. We all know you're in a position in your life where you're trying to get yourself situated."

"Still, it would have been nice," he mumbled. "Plus, I made a really stupid bet with a bloke I work with and found myself out ten galleons, so it's not as if I didn't have the money. I just lost it."

"Do you need money?" she asked in a concerned tone.

"No," he said matter-of-factly. He thought of Harry asking the same question just a few days prior when he had seen him. "I'm fine. Really. I can pay my bills and eat and stuff, I just don't have extra money to spend on," he shrugged, "extra stuff."

"If you needed money, Teddy…"

"I know," he said as he finished up the last of his breakfast. "But I'm honestly okay." He smiled at her and she forced a smile back. He knew she and Harry were worried about him, but he wasn't in bad enough shape to be taking handouts. If it hadn't been for the holidays and losing that bet with Nate, he really would have been fine.

"I just worry about you," she said as she stood up and walked over to the sink.

"Trust me," he said as he stood from the table to clear his plate, "I'll come to you before I decide to knock over Gringotts."

She smiled. "Go get some rest."

He yawned lazily as he suddenly caught sight of a calendar that his Grams had tacked up on the wall next to the pantry. She had crossed off all of the previous days of the month as they had occurred, leaving only two days left unmarked. As he stared at today's date, a sudden realization hit him.

"Today's Victoire's birthday," he said blankly.

"Is it?" she asked. "That would make her…?"

"Seventeen."

"Oh, how wonderful!" she said as she clapped her hands together. "I'll have to send her something."

"Yeah, apparently, her parents are throwing her a big party."

"You know, I do remember Ginny saying something about that. I take it you're not going?"

"Can't." He shrugged. "I feel bad since it's her seventeenth, but what can I do?"

"Did you get her something?" she asked as she turned back towards him.

He shook his head and was once against reminded of how broke he currently was. "I couldn't if I wanted to."

"You don't have to buy her something," she said. "I'm sure she'll get lots of store bought things anyway."

Ted smirked. "I'm not crafty, Grams. It's not as if I can make her something."

"You and she have practically spent your whole lives together. You can't think of something she would like?"

He considered that as he leaned against the kitchen counter. "She likes picture frames."

"Those aren't expensive," she said. "In fact, I have a box full of old antique ones I inherited in your grandfather's study." She smiled a little. "And only half of them have the Black family crest on them. Go see if you can find one that doesn't and by all means, take it."

Ted thought about that offer. It wasn't a bad idea. He knew Victoire collected picture frames of all shapes, makes, and sizes, and he was fairly sure she would like it. It was better than having no gift at all. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure Victoire will make more use of it than I will."

"Yeah, I think I will," he said as he leaned forward and made his way to his grandfather's study. It was still the quiet, untouched sort of room that Ted had become accustomed to growing up with, but there were far more boxes now stacked about. It seemed that Grams was using it for storage.

"By the desk," she called from the kitchen.

Ted made his way over to the desk and began sorting through several boxes until he found the one in question. Inside, there were several of the frames that his grandmother had been talking about, as well as other items that were emblazoned with the Black family crest of arms. He took one out and examined it.

His grandmother's mother, a woman Ted had never met and knew only as Druella Rosier-Black, had apparently passed away a year earlier at nearly one hundred-fourteen-years-old. She had left all of her worldly possessions to her youngest daughter, Narcissa, due to Ted's grandmother having been disowned by the family entirely. Narcissa had, in turn, chosen to sell the old Black manor home, but not before purging it of its contents. She had kept most of the items, sold others, and, for a reason his grandmother couldn't quite explain, Narcissa had sent several boxes of old heirlooms and trinkets to his grandmother.

His grams had been surprised to see the boxes turn up on her doorstep, seeing as she had no real desire to have any reminders of her past, but she had been more surprised at the actions of her sister in sending them. The two hadn't had any contact after his grandmother was disowned until the death of Ted's mother, in which Grams had received—several months after the fact—and handwritten letter of condolences from her sister for that of both Ted's mum and, shockingly enough, his Muggleborn grandfather. It was the last contact either of them had had with each other until the Black family goods began showing up at the house.

Ted put the crested framed back and searched through the rest of the box before coming up with a sterling silver frame that was crest and marking free. It probably cost a fortune, and he almost reconsidered choosing it, but his grams walked into the room just as he motioned to put it back

"That's a lovely one," she said as she examined it. "She'll love it."

"You don't think it's too much?"

"Not at all," she said with a wave of her hand. "Plus anything that gets some of this," she gestured to the boxes that were scattered around the room, "out of this house, the better."

"Thanks, Grams." He glanced down at the frame. It was fairly heavy and looked as if it could use a good rub down with a cloth, but otherwise it was perfect. Not a scratch on it.

"Here, let me clean that up," she said as she took it from him and headed to the kitchen. "I know you're exhausted and need to sleep, but I also know you won't be bothered to rub the smudges off it before you give it away."

He grinned. "I would too."

"You should put a picture in it," she suggested as she tapped her wand to a cloth that suddenly went straight to the frame and started buffing it vigorously.

"A picture of what?"

For some reason, she found Ted's question funny and snorted a laugh before smirking at him. "How about one of the two of you?"

"Isn't that a little corny?"

"Not at all," she said. "It's not everyday one of your oldest friends turns seventeen. I think it would a very thoughtful gesture."

Ted watched the cloth buff the frame as he considered what she had said. "She'll think it's stupid."

"Yes, women hate extra thoughtful gifts," she said in a surprisingly sarcastic tone. Ted didn't even know his grandmother knew what sarcasm was.

"I…"

"If you're going to give her a frame, you should give her a picture too," she said as if that was reason enough. "I have a few boxes full of old photos of you and I'm sure she's in half of them. You know where I keep them." She pointed towards the living room. "Get to it and make sure you pick a good one."

She handed Ted back the frame, and for the second time that morning, he again received a look that made him feel as if he were five-years-old again. He hesitated for only a second, but said nothing before he walked straight into the living room.

After twenty minutes of searching through embarrassing photos of himself as a child, Ted had found a picture of him and Victoire when they were little that he didn't quite hate. It had been taken at Harry and Ginny's wedding, which Ted realized would have made him about six. His hair was dark and he was wearing green dress robes which he could still remember hating having to wear, but he also remembered that he had had a lot of fun that night.

Victoire was also in the photo standing next to him, wearing green and a ridiculously large green bow in her hair. Looking back at her, Ted thought she really had been a cute little girl. At least, more so than he had given her credit for back then. Even he had to admit that her eyes weren't all that bug eyed as he had once thought.

The more he stared at the picture, the more he tried to piece the events behind it together. They had both been in the wedding, and all night people had been trying to take pictures of them together because everyone claimed it was, "cute." Ted had started tiring of the picture taking after about the third one he was forced to take, so he had stopped smiling entirely as a way of proving a point. After all, not smiling to make people stop taking his picture made sense to his six-year-old sense of logic.

He had thought it was a brilliant plan, but Victoire didn't seem to agree. She had apparently taken it upon herself to rectify the situation for this picture in particular. While she was beaming at the camera, she was also poking her fingers at the corners of his mouth and was forcing him, quite literally, to smile.

Ted smiled as he popped open the back of the frame to place the picture inside. It was a cute photo and Victoire would hopefully get a kick out of it. If her reaction was anything like his grandmother's after he had showed it to her ("adorable!") then he'd done his job.

After finding the photo, he finally managed to leave his grandmother's in order to catch a few hours of much needed sleep. After awakening and forcing himself out of bed, he begrudgingly Apparated to Nate's house. The second he entered, he noticed Hazel was already there, still in her work clothes.

"You're late," she said.

Ted looked at his watch. "It's 9:04."

"Which is four minutes late," she said as she went back to scribbling something down in a hurried manner. Ted glanced at Nate who looked noticeably less stressed than Hazel was. He simply rolled his eyes and shrugged.

Hazel insisted that they worked in a frenzied sort manner as they checked, double checked, and triple checked every single fact they had collected before applying them to their presentation. They then took turns reading out their portions of the project, each ten minutes long, and corrected each other on whatever needed to be fixed. Hazel made them do several mock run-throughs of everything as though everyone they would be speaking to was currently sitting in Nate's living room. After four run-throughs, Ted needed a break.

"What time is it?" Nate asked as he simultaneously checked his watch and answered his own question. "Quarter to midnight."

"We're doing really well," Hazel said as she fought off a yawn. "Now we just have to finish the diagrams and charts and we'll be done! That shouldn't take more than an hour or two."

"Whoopie…" Nate said without any enthusiasm.

"Can we take a break," Ted asked.

"We really don't have time," Hazel began just as Nate stood up and said, "Yes."

"I really wish you two would take this more seriously," she said. "I mean if we do this correctly tomorrow, we could get promoted. Even a raise. Not to mention all the accolades and opportunities…"

"We are taking it seriously," said Ted. He felt slightly defensive at her claims that he wasn't. He'd been busting his arse over this for the last few months and for someone to claim he wasn't taking it seriously enough was the last thing he wanted to hear.

"We're only mere mortals," Nate said to Hazel. "Just because we need a break, it doesn't mean we're taking this any less seriously than you are."

"But you two are constantly joking around—"

"Oh, god forbid we try to have a little fun."

"So, is this a break?" Ted interrupted before the two of them started to bicker. "I ask because I can't think of better ways to spend mine." He stood and glanced at his watch. "Plus, I need to go and pick up some of the notes for the diagrams anyway. I left them at my flat—"

"You left them at your flat!" Hazel yelled as if he had just killed someone. Having been taken completely off guard by her outburst, he stood frozen to the spot. He was genuinely unsure as to whether he had done something wrong or not.

"Someone definitely needs a break," Nate said, gesturing for Ted to go while he still had the chance. "Just try to be back before midnight."

Ted nodded and didn't hesitate to make a quick dash for the door, happy to be away from Hazel and her utter madness. He Apparated home just as the clock struck ten minutes to midnight, and began searching his workbench in a frantic attempt to find the diagram notes in question. He knew that if he had somehow lost them, he was as good as dead. Given Hazel's current mood, he didn't doubt for a second that she would go absolutely mad and make good on her ever present threat to hex him into pieces.

After a five minute search, he found them sitting right where he had left them earlier in the day—underneath Victoire's birthday present. He let out a huge sigh of relief and sat for a few seconds to collect himself. He almost had to laugh at the ridiculousness of everything that was currently happening. Almost.

He checked his watch and noticed it was four minutes to midnight. He had to get back. He stood and put the notes into his pocket before Victoire's present caught his eye once more. A sudden thought occurred to him as he bit his lip and contemplated the possibility of taking her present to her now. It was technically still her birthday. It would also almost make up for having missed her party since he would be going out of his way to do this, particularly since he didn't have the time to spare.

He grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment before scribbling down a standard "Happy Birthday" greeting. He folded it down the middle and was about to put it in the envelope before something made him feel as if he should probably write something more. After all, Grams was right. It wasn't every day that one of your oldest friends turned seventeen.

He picked the quill back up and wrote the first thing that came to his head:

"Happy birthday, Vic. Being this side of seventeen was getting lonely without you, so it's about time you caught up. Sorry about missing your party, but here's to many good times to come (especially since I am, in fact, cool). Miss you – Ted

He read it back to himself before shoving it into an envelope and grabbing the frame. As he Apparated to Victoire's house, he didn't know if it was already after midnight or not, but he was here and it really was the thought that counted…That's what he was telling himself.

Walking up the lawn towards the front door, Ted noticed a small tent set off to the side of the house where several people were milling around the outside. It looked as if the party was over, but that it had been quite the little affair. Not that he expected much less from Victoire, of course. He noticed that the lights were still on inside the house and was thankful to see everyone was still up considering it was rather late. He reached the front door and knocked.

He paced a few steps around the front porch and sensed movement and voices from somewhere inside as he started bouncing the frame anxiously in his hands. He heard the door start to open and smiled appreciatively when it was Victoire who appeared on the other side.

"I'm not too late, am I?" he asked.

"Ted!" She looked surprised and smiled widely. "What are you doing here?"

"I had a break," he said as she stepped out onto the porch to join him. Ted noticed that she almost looked like a completely different person standing there in blue dress robes with her hair neatly done and wearing makeup. She had clearly decided to go all out for her birthday and it was quite different from the Victoire he had grown to know, or seen covered in marinara sauce just days before. She looked very grown up and exceptionally pretty…But still, as nice as she looked, he couldn't help think that she looked prettier when she didn't bother trying. Not that he'd tell her that.

"I figured I might be able to just catch the end of your birthday," he added, holding out her present. "Happy birthday."

"You didn't have to," she said as she took it and smiled at him. "You've got your thing tomorrow morning."

He shrugged. "I figured I could spare a few minutes."

"Do you want to come in?" she asked, gesturing towards the house.

He shook his head. "I really only stopped by to drop that off and see you on your birthday. I wish I had the time."

Somewhere in the house, a chime suddenly sounded and indicated that it was midnight. Ted smiled victoriously. "And I made it just in time."

"Good timing." She grinned as she started examining the package.

"I really should be going, though. I've still got a few more things to do before I can go to sleep." He sighed and thought of the diagrams and Hazel's tyrannical ways. "If I sleep…"

"Wait," she said as she started to tear at the paper off her gift. "You've got to at least wait for me to open it."

He could spare another minute or two to see her reaction to the picture. At least this way, he'd be able to defend himself if she thought it was stupid. "I'm hoping you'll get a kick out of this. My Grams had this for ages in a box and I asked her if she'd care if I gave it to you. Plus, I know you like to collect picture frames…"

Ted stopped and watched her face as she ripped the last of the paper off and began studying the frame. She hadn't had an immediate reaction. She looked almost stoic as she pulled the frame closer to her face and watched the younger version of the two of them goof off inside the frame. Her lack of enthusiasm almost prompted Ted to tell her that it had all been his grandmother's idea, and that he knew it was corny, but—

"Where was this taken?" she asked quietly.

"Harry and Ginny's wedding," he said as he moved closer so as to look with her. "I can tell by the robes I'm wearing. I hated those things."

She smiled softly, but didn't say anything. The smile had to mean she at least found a little humor in the whole thing. That was a good sign.

"I was a brat," Ted said, gesturing to himself in the photo, all in an attempt to move the conversation along. "Anyway, I always liked that photo, so I thought maybe you would, too."

"I love it," she said, still talking very quietly. "Thank you so much."

If she was lying, then she was damn good at it because he actually believed her. He smiled before suddenly remembering the card and began patting down his clothes to find it. "There's a card." He handed it to her before checking his watch. "I didn't want to forget it. I really have to go, though."

"Right," she said as the softness in her voice disappeared and returned to a more normal sounding tone. "Thank you so much for this…and for coming by."

He shrugged. It really wasn't a big deal. "If I don't see you before you're back at school, I'll try to actually write to you this time." He expected an empty threat from her, warning him that he'd better write or else; instead, she only smiled and nodded. She was acting strangely demure. "Happy birthday and tell everyone I said hi."

"Will do." She nodded again.

"Bye," he said before disappearing and reappearing outside of Nate's flat just a few moments later. Well, that was done. He wanted to believe that she liked it. At least he hoped she did. After all, it was better than nothing.

Hazel looked up at him the second he entered the room. Her eyes narrowed. "You're late."


	10. A Loss of Focus

Ted couldn't even count the amount of people who had shown up for their dragon pox presentation. He had expected maybe ten people; prominent Healers and researchers who would turn up to hear about what the Russians were up to so that they could apply their own methods and findings to the information. Instead, at least forty to fifty people were sitting in that small little lecture room.

Most of the faces were familiar looking from around the hospital. In fact, except for a few official looking Ministry people peppered around the room, it seemed that quite a few of the more senior level officials had turned up. Directly in the back was Healer Pullman and several of her Trainee Healers, as well as Herbertson and various other senior level researchers. It was Herbertson, in particular, who seemed most interested in what Ted and his colleagues had to say, but Ted couldn't be sure if that was because of the information they were giving or because he was evaluating their performance in itself.

Ted had never been much of a public speaker. He'd always preferred to be the one who the entire room wasn't looking at, but, with his pulse quickening and his brow now feeling a little sweaty, he stood in front of that entire room and told them everything he knew and had learned about dragon pox. After what seemed like the longest ten minutes of his life, he stepped back and let Hazel lead the conclusion of the presentation. As he passed her on the way to his seat, he had to admit that for as much crap as he had given her for being "too prepared" or "too intense," he almost felt as though her crazy ways were the only reason he had remembered everything he was supposed to say up there.

"Nice," Nate whispered to Ted once he sat next to him.

He breathed a huge sigh of relief. Nate had done his part just as he was supposed, and Ted felt as if his part had been solid, which only left Hazel. Given the way she was currently addressing the room as if she owned the place though, they were as good as perfect. They'd actually done this.

"How did I do?" Hazel asked once a mild applause rang through the room.

"Couldn't have gone better," Nate said as several people came up to shake their hands and commend them on a job well done. Ted saw Herbertson gloating about the performance and seemingly taking credit from the other researchers while Healer Pullman was addressing some of her trainees and asking if they had taken notes and understood some of the finer points of the Russian healing system.

Ted smiled a little, unable to believe that that presentation was finally in the past. He'd managed to maintain a sense of professionalism until he and the others were all safely back in the lab, but as soon as they entered, Paul and Magda greeted them with expectant smiles.

"And?" Magda asked.

"We killed it," Nate said proudly. He grabbed Ted's shoulders and shook him jovially as Hazel started jumping up and down excitedly. She rushed up to quickly hug Nate and then Ted, which in itself was amusing to see considering she was always the serious one of the group.

"Congrats!" Magda said. "You three worked so hard. Reminded me of my days back when I used to be a junior researcher being forced to present information." She made a face. "Not that I wish for those days back."

"I cannot believe we didn't make any mistakes!" Hazel said happily as she went and collapsed into a chair behind her desk. "At least none that I can think of."

"I mispronounced a few words," Ted admitted, "but I corrected myself."

"For your first time in front of that lot," Nate said, "that's nothing."

"You should have seen me when I had to give my first presentation," Paul said. "This was fifteen years ago and I was maybe nineteen. I was terrified, so I was sweating buckets. One of the Healers had to stop and ask me if I needed a minute to dry off."

"How embarrassing," Hazel said before as the door to the lab swung open and in walked Herbertson. He had a broad smile on his face and seemed relatively pleased. Ted wasn't sure he'd ever seen his boss smile before.

"Excellent job, you three," Herbertson said.

"Thank you, sir," Hazel beamed.

"Of course, there's only going to be more of the same now that we've unlocked so many doors in terms of finding a cure," he added. "You're all just skimming the tip. In fact, Healer Pullman was so impressed that she has requested that you three assist her in teaching her new set of trainees about dragon pox remedies. You'll be answering to quite a few of the healers now."

Ted grinned. For the first time, he really felt as if he had done something. Being given more responsibility meant more leverage to push his own projects. He knew it wouldn't be tomorrow, but at this rate, he'd be able to do what he wanted in no time.

"Who's working right now?" Herbertson asked as his tone suddenly grew far more official sounding.

Paul raised his hand. "I am until nine."

"I'm done for the day," Magda said. "I was just waiting for Ted to finish so he could start his shift."

Ted's good mood faltered when he realized that he now had to work until the early morning hours on New Year's Eve. In all the excitement, he'd almost forgotten.

"Alright, everyone else clear out. The rest of you back to work," Herbertson said. "Lupin, can I see you in the office for a moment?"

"Sure."

"I'll be back at six," Nate said as he patted Ted on the back before turning to leave. "Looks like you and I will be ringing in the New Year together. Not exactly my ideal date, but you'll have to do."

"In that case," Hazel said as she gathered her things. "I may be a little late. I'm supposed to be here at midnight, but if I have to ring in yet another new year with Nate, I'm bound to go mad. I need to start a year right for once."

"Oh, you're hilarious," Nate said sarcastically as Ted disappeared into Herbertson's office. He was behind his desk waiting for him.

"You outdid yourself," he said before Ted had even finished closing the door behind him. "You know, making you help Connolly and Gilbert was a bit of a test in a way."

"A test?" Ted asked.

"A test," he repeated. "Remember when you started here, Lupin? I said that if you could get through the first six months, you would make it here in this department. Well, you got through those with flying colors, so I had to see how far you bent when pushed to the limits. You responded well."

"Thank you, sir," he said with a small smile.

"It's a nice change to see someone actually stick around here. The last one who stuck was Connolly, and as you can tell, he sort of marches to the beat of his own drummer."

"I can't argue that."

"So," he said quickly. "With risk comes reward."

Ted's ears perked up a little.

"You're making an entry level salary now. I feel given your performance, you're entitled to a raise."

Ted tried his hardest to keep himself from smiling like a goon. "Thank you, sir."

"It's nothing much," he said as he signed off on some piece of paper. "But it's certainly a step up from what you've been getting."

"I could definitely use it," he said happily.

"Congratulations," he said, handing Ted the paper he had just signed. "You've earned it. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Absolutely," Ted said as he turned to leave. "Thank you, sir."

"You know," Herbertson said, gesturing to the paper, "you have to take that up to processing on the fifth floor?"

Ted hadn't known that, but now that he did, he was sure to do just that. "I was just about to."

"Just making sure," he said dismissively before he turned away. Ted took that to mean that they were done and that he could finally leave. He left his office and immediately bounded for the exit in an excited daze. He couldn't help it with all of his sudden energy.

"Where are you going?" Paul called after him.

"Upstairs really quick," he called back as he reached for the door knob. "You want something from the tearoom?"

Paul shook his head. "No, but if you're going, could you take these patient forms to the second floor?" He held up several folders.

"Absolutely," Ted said as he walked over to grab them. Given his mood, Paul could have asked him to jump off the roof and he would have done it with a smile.

"You're in a good mood," he said curiously.

"It's just been a really good day," Ted said. With a quick turn, he took the files and left. As he made his way to the fifth floor, he found himself thinking about how good things were going lately. He was doing better than even he could have anticipated here at the hospital, and was even getting a small promotion and a raise. A raise he definitely needed. Best yet, things weren't going to be as chaotic anymore now that the presentation was over. Things were finally going to calm down.

He stopped on the fifth floor and dropped the paper informing them of his raise off at processing before hopping back into the lift and pressing the button for the second floor. As he got off the lift at his stop, he suddenly thought about the last year and how much things had changed with school ending, work starting, and Celia and him splitting up. He was in a completely different place than he had been earlier in the year and it was crazy to even think about the new direction he was taking in his life. If this new year was anything like the day he was having today, then he was in for quite a year.

He stopped and smiled at Agnes standing behind the nurses' station as he dropped off Paul's folders. She returned the smile. "I heard some good things about you today," she said.

"They're all true," he said.

She laughed. "Healer Pullman is in there," she pointed to a nearby patient room, "with her new crop of trainees that start their rotation here tomorrow. She was just talking about the presentation you guys just gave. She seems impressed. Even by Nathaniel. That shocked even me."

"Nate's actually a really clever guy if you give him a chance."

"I never said he wasn't clever," she said as she picked up several items and began stocking a high shelf. "He's just a cocky prat."

"True."

At that moment, Healer Pullman exited the room that Agnes had just moments before mentioned. She was followed by ten or so individuals, some of which looked vaguely familiar. Ted recognized a few from school and some as being a few years older than he was. It was almost strange to be reminded of their existences after having all but forgotten them after they had left Hogwarts.

"Mr. Lupin," said Healer Pullman when she saw him. "I was just talking about you and your associates to my new trainees here." She gestured to them. "We were all thoroughly impressed by the presentation and I am looking forward to you being able to offer some insight when it comes to dragon pox cases."

He smiled.

She gave him a quick pat on the shoulder before addressing the group. "Now, if you will all just follow me, I'll show you a few last things around here before we're done for the day."

"You're not going to go getting an ego on me, are you?" Agnes whispered once Pullman walked off. "Because I don't think I'd be able to handle you and Nathaniel at the same time."

"Nah, I'm not really the ego type," Ted said. "I'm just here to get my job done. The accolades are great, but if you really let them get to you, you'll lose your focus, you know?"

She made an amused face. "I sometimes forget you're only eighteen."

Ted faked pompous and leaned forward on the counter in a way that Nate tended to do when he was trying to schmooze with the nurses. In a very Nate-like tone, he said, "Because I'm so focused."

Agnes laughed, and Ted was happy to see that his Nate impression hadn't failed to impress. At that very moment though, he was suddenly distracted by someone poking him in the side with their finger.

"I know you," said a friendly sounding female voice. When he turned to look, he saw that the voice was connected to a familiar face, a familiar set of really pretty dark eyes and dark shiny hair, and a familiar perfect smile that was currently directed right at him. It was Elizabeth Cole.

He stood up straight after having been leaning on the counter. "I know you," he said blankly before smiling out of reflex. "I mean, hi. What are you doing…?"

She pointed after Pullman and took a few steps to follow. "I'm training to be a Healer. I just finished my rotation on the Spell Damage Floor and now I'm here." She smiled. "I saw your presentation this morning. Impressive."

"Oh…" He suddenly couldn't seem to find the words to talk properly. "It was okay."

"I thought it was really interesting," she said with a quick glance over her shoulder. "But I just wanted to say hi. I've got to go catch up."

Ted stared at her before suddenly nodding and searching his head for something relevant or even charming to say. "So, wait, you'll be working on this floor now?"

"Uh-huh," she said as she walked off. "So, I'm sure I'll see you later." She smiled and waved quickly. "Nice seeing you, Ted."

"Yeah…" he muttered as she disappeared around a corner. He half-smiled as he leaned back against the nurses' counter. Just when he thought this day couldn't get any better, Elizabeth Cole was now training to be a Healer right here on the ward he spent most of his time on. And, she had stopped to say hello to him. Not to mention that she'd been impressed by his presentation. She even said so! Plus, she looked incredible…

"Uh-oh," Agnes said. Ted snapped back to reality and saw she was watching him. "There it went."

"There what went?" he asked.

She smiled and shook her head. "Your focus."

"So, Elizabeth works where you do now?" Simon asked the following day as he and Ted sat in Ted's flat.

Ted nodded. "Well, I mean, I don't actually work on that floor, I just go down there to check on patients and see how they're responding to treatments and stuff. I'm only down there for bits at a time."

Simon nodded as he took this in. "But she works there now?"

"Yeah."

Simon hummed. "So, how's she look?"

Ted exhaled. "She looks good," he said slowly. "She looks really good."

"I don't think it's possible for her not to," Simon said as he stood up from the sofa and stretched. He looked at the clock. "Alright. It's time."

Ted nodded. For the last hour, Simon had been killing time at his flat and waiting for seven o'clock to roll around so that he could go and meet with his new "friend" or whatever she was. He'd been quite vague on the details. As it were, apparently while Ted had been busy with work and traveling halfway around the world, Simon had been busy here making up for his poor attempt at the Dragon's Breath.

The girl he had been flirting with and talking to had apparently started talking back. As he told Ted, he hadn't asked her out, but that's not to say things weren't happening. They were just being friendly with each other. They were getting to know each other. They were taking things slow…

"There's nothing wrong with taking things slow," Simon had said after Ted seemed confused as to what exactly Simon was doing. "You of all people should agree…"

"Alright, alright," Ted said, throwing up his hands in surrender. He wasn't in any mood to hear Simon attempt to justify his logic by using his own inherent behavior when it came to girls against him.

"Okay," Simon said as he made his way towards the door. "So, I'm going go get her and bring her back here so you can meet her."

Ted nodded. That was Simon's plan tonight. He wanted him to meet this girl he was apparently mad about. He wanted Ted's opinion, though, given the way Simon talked about her, Ted was sure that his opinion would matter very little one way or the other.

"Remember," Simon began, "when you meet her, don't be afraid to talk me up as much as possible."

"Right."

"And you should clean this place up a little," Simon said, gesturing around towards Ted's workbench.

Ted made a face. His flat wasn't that bad. Only his work bench was really cluttered, and that was because it was where he spent most of his time. Plus, who was Simon to tell him he should clean? Half the reason he was bringing the girl here was because his flat was a disaster area that no witch or wizard should ever be subjected to stepping inside of.

"Why should I clean? Who am I trying to impress?" Ted asked.

"It's just a suggestion," Simon said as he pulled the door open. "I'll be back in about ten minutes." He pointed towards Ted's work bench again, as if to further make a suggestion before he disappeared outside.

Ted shook his head and let out a doubtful laugh, but he couldn't help but glance at his work bench as he did. It was a little messy. He squinted the more he looked at it, wondering if it was really that bad. With an aggravated sigh, he stood up, grabbed the rubbish bin, and pulled it over towards it. Stupid Simon with his dumb suggestions…

He picked up several old documents and immediately discarded them before he began to clean off the desk entirely. He couldn't even remember why he kept half of this junk as he threw out old pieces of parchment, discarded ingredients, potions samples, chocolate frog wrappers, broken quills, stale owl treats, stale owl something…

He glanced at Auggie in his cage. "That's disgusting. My desk is not a toilet."

Auggie hooted.

He shook his head as he came across an open envelope. He tossed it into the trash before noticing the letter that had been sitting underneath it. He immediately recognized it as being from Victoire. It was the letter she had sent him ages ago forewarning him about her birthday. He picked it up and scanned it, as if it might contain some new information that it hadn't before, but quickly folded it up again. He leaned over to drop it into the rubbish, but hesitated. He sat in that position—letter in hand, out stretched over the bin—for several seconds before he turned back around and faced the tabletop.

Grabbing a piece of parchment and a quill—which was much easier to find now that he'd cleaned his desk—he decided to write to her, seeing as the letter had reminded him of his promise to keep better touch. Now that he had a free moment, he might as well. It was about time he made good on some of his promises.

He stared at the blank sheet of parchment in front of him before putting his quill tip on top of it. He thought that actually putting quill to paper would inspire him to think of something relevant to write, but still, nothing came to mind. He literally had nothing to tell her. Work was boring, and even if it wasn't, it was never exciting to write about in a letter. He couldn't think of anything happening in his life at the moment that was worth writing about.

He puffed up his cheeks and let the air out as he tapped his thumb against the desk. She wasn't going to write to him until she knew he'd actually correspond, that much he knew. He had to write something. After all, he had told her he would write…

As he thought that, his quill wrote the words: I told you I would write. He laughed a little as he read the words back and pictured the face Victoire would make if he actually did only send her that simple sentence. He knew she'd be annoyed, but not really. She would make a very particular expression; one that he could see in his mind as clear as could be. She would raise her eyebrows, frown, and get a concentrated look in her eyes before rolling them at the ridiculousness of the situation and at him. It was the face she always made when she disapproved, or pretended to disapprove, of something.

Smiling, he folded up the piece of parchment. He was sending this as is. It was far too funny to pass on the opportunity. He had just finished addressing the envelope when a knock at the door made him hastily put the letter to the side where he knew he'd remember it tomorrow. He stretched his arms in front of him before yelling, "It's open!"

"Hey," Simon said as he was followed inside by the familiar dark-haired, round faced girl with the pretty smile that Ted had met at the Dragon's Breath. She smiled a closed mouth smile as she entered and glanced at Simon as if waiting for him to take control of the situation and introductions.

"What's up?" Ted said once he stood from his work bench and threw a few last minute items into the rubbish.

"It's cold out," Simon said cheerfully as he took off his cloak and hung it up.

"Yeah, I bet," Ted said as he smiled at the girl. He stepped forward to shake her hand. "Hi, I'm Ted. I think we've met, but—"

"At the Dragon's Breath," she said as she shook his. "I'm Susan."

"Susan," he repeated. "That's right." He turned towards his sofa. "Well, feel free to sit. I'm not sure what the plan is exactly, but—"

"I figured we could hang out for a bit here," Simon suggested.

Ted glanced at him. He didn't have anything to offer in the form of entertainment, and he wasn't even sure if he had food in his kitchen to offer as a gesture of being polite. "I guess so."

"We can go out in a bit," Simon added with a quick glance at Susan. She was currently curiously admiring the shelves above the workbench that held various potions ingredients.

"What are those for?" she asked as she pointed. For the first time, Ted noticed that she had an accent. It sounded American.

"Um," he said as he followed her gaze, "potions and ingredients."

She smiled a little, but didn't take her eyes off of the shelves. "I can see that. But why? Why do you keep them here in your place?"

"Ted's in antidote research at St. Mungo's," Simon explained. "He makes potions and whatnot."

She nodded thoughtfully. "I was going to say, I haven't seen some of those things since I took Potions at school." She turned to Ted. "That sounds really like an interesting job."

He shrugged. "It pays the bills."

"You secretly love what you do," Simon said. "Don't pretend like you don't."

"There are aspects that I love," he corrected. "Some parts I could do without. The crazy hours for one."

"You work crazy hours?" Susan asked.

"He works all the time," Simon said before turning to Ted. "Though, I thought things were going to be better now that your presentation was over?"

"Things are boring now that it's over," Ted said. "I'm sure things will pick up, but right now I don't even know what to do with myself. Well, besides allowing myself to be an experiment for everyone else."

"They're still testing your blood and stuff?" Simon asked as he sat on the sofa.

Ted nodded. "Magda, this woman I work with, she says she's catching some minor breakthroughs putting my blood on some small viral samples, so…" He trailed off. "Nothing really worthwhile, but honestly, that's the most exciting thing going on right now. Even then, that work is so complex that I barely understand what's happening."

Susan sat next to Simon, but was staring at Ted. "May I ask why your blood is so special?"

"He's a Metamorphmagus," Simon said casually before quickly glancing at Ted and realizing that that was the sort of thing that Ted usually decided whether or not to tell people. "I mean—"

"And your blood has healing powers?" she asked, seemingly unfazed by the revelation.

"There are theories," Ted said. "Nothing's been proven."

She made a noncommittal noise and leaned against the back of the sofa. Ted didn't know what was more surprising, her lack of interest in him being a Metamorphmagus or his own curiosity as to why she didn't seem to care. It wasn't as if everyone who found out about him always had a reaction, but he had just assumed she would. Most people did.

"So, you two work together?" Ted said for lack of anything better to say.

Simon nodded, which didn't help fill the ever present silence. Susan, however, sat forward and replied. "Yeah, I just started in October after I moved here."

"I can tell by your accent," Ted said. "Where are you from?"

"You know where Philadelphia is?"

He nodded. "I've heard of it."

"Not there," she said with a smile, "but around there. About an hour west, actually. A tiny little town that I promise you have never heard of."

"Oh," Ted said as Simon nodded in agreement with her. "So, why'd you come over here?"

"Different opportunities," she said as Ted began to notice that the more she talked, the more relaxed and friendlier she seemed. "I'd always wanted to go abroad and I figured why not some place where I can at least speak the language."

Ted smiled as Simon laughed a little. He was clearly enamored with everything she had to say and over the course of the evening, Ted wasn't sure he'd ever seen Simon take this sort of restraint when it came to leading or conducting a conversation. Susan did most of the talking and asked most of the questions, which was usually Simon's role. He simply sat back and let her. She appeared to be very genuine and, no matter the topic, she seemed to have something to offer in one way or another. It didn't take a lot for Ted to see why Simon liked her…They actually complimented each other.

They had talked for an hour or so before Simon stood and claimed he had to use the toilet. "We can go get something to eat or something after," he suggested.

"Yeah, okay," Susan said as Simon smiled a little before making eye contact with Ted. Susan was currently adjusting her shoe and not paying attention, so he took the opportunity to give Ted a signal to talk him up while he was gone.

"So, Simon…" Ted said once he and Susan were alone.

"So," she said as she cast him a sideways look.

"He's a great guy."

"I see that." She suddenly smiled. "Is he putting you up to this?"

"Up to what?" he asked, attempting to feign innocent.

"I'm not an idiot."

"Never said you were."

She laughed. "So, he has no ulterior motive in bringing me here to his best friend's house?"

Ted tried not to grin, but he couldn't help it. "Not that I know of."

"And I'm sure it's just a coincidence that the second he leaves the room, you start in on how he's a 'great guy'?"

"It's not as if he needs to hear me say it."

She laughed a little. "But I do?"

"I just thought you ought to know," Ted said as he lost the battle against grinning. "I'm getting the word out."

"Riiiight…" she said slyly. "Well, duly noted. I appreciate you reminding me."

"No problem," Ted said as he leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Well, for the record," she said as she lowered her voice and slid down the length of the sofa closer to where his chair was so she could whisper. "You can tell Simon that he just needs to tell me all the things he's probably been telling you. It'll speed this whole process along."

Ted considered this. That was certainly a good sign. "Or you could tell him."

"I'm not sure how much clearer I can be," she said as she shook her head. "I've hinted at things, but yet, nothing." She made a face. "I almost think I need to beat him across the head with it."

"It would help," Ted said. "Simon's all about the obvious, so actually saying it would be more effective."

"So, I should be more obvious?"

"In my personal opinion," Ted said. "I think all girls should be more obvious. Every single one of you. No more games."

She nodded her head as she seemed to consider this.

"Trust me, if you just tell him, it'll make things easier..." He trailed off as Simon walked back into the room a moment later. He caught Ted's eye as if to ask how things went. Ted began to nod, but just as he did, Susan turned around on the sofa to face Simon.

"Simon," she said bluntly. "I like you. You should probably know that."

He stared at her, his face mostly confused. "Wha…Sorry?"

She glanced at Ted. "How was that?"

He looked almost as surprised as Simon was, but slowly nodded. "That's a good start."


	11. By Default

As February fell upon St. Mungo's, Ted's work was steadily getting more substantial. There were talks of another trip to Russia, though nothing confirmed, and a breakthrough on another dragon pox trial had sent everyone into an excited frenzy. There was even a rumor of Herbertson hiring someone else on, which—as Paul had told Ted—wasn't worth getting too excited about. As they all felt the need to remind him, rarely did people stick.

Still, things had gelled into a pleasant calm as far as Ted was concerned. In his personal life, things were more or less the same. Simon and Susan had worked things out and were now officially dating, which was a change in the usual dynamic, though not enough to disrupt things. Ted liked Susan and rarely minded her tagging along when he and Simon hung out—or rather, when he tagged along with them. He almost had to admit that Simon was more accommodating to him tagging along than he had been when Celia and he had started dating, but he supposed that had more to do with having matured rather than anything else. These days, he couldn't see himself getting so punch-drunk over a new relationship like he had when he was sixteen. He still sort of hoped he would, but he just couldn't see it.

Harry and his family were the same as always. Ted had stopped by Harry's for dinner a few nights before where Ginny had hinted at getting Quidditch World Cup tickets this year since it was being held in Britain for the first time in over twenty years. Ted's reaction had almost matched Albus's in terms of excitement upon hearing this news, seeing as an opportunity to see the Quidditch World Cup live and in person would be once in a lifetime. He couldn't even properly remember the last time he had made it to a Quidditch match.

With his grandmother, he hadn't seen much of her lately due to her having fallen ill with a terrible head cold. She refused to let him over and wouldn't even permit him to come near her until he practically forced her to take some of the remedies he'd brought from the hospital. She had always been a skeptic of anything that she couldn't whip up at the house, so she had fought him tooth and nail on the matter. Needless to say, after Ted had promised—and promised again—that he knew what he was doing, she finally relented. The following day, she felt fine.

He'd also been keeping his word to Victoire by corresponding with her when he got the chance. He hadn't counted on her responses being so prompt, though. Where it usually took him a week after the fact to respond, she would have a letter back within two or three days. She had a way of making him feel as though he was slacking, but for someone who didn't consider himself as much of a letter writer, he had to be far surpassing her expectations just by managing a new letter within the month.

This time though, it had taken her some time to respond. He wouldn't have noticed had she not mentioned it herself, but as he sat in the lab on a slow night, waiting for a Blood Stopping Serum to coagulate, he was reminded of this fact as he read her newest letter.

_Ted,_

_I'm sure I'm going to hear it the next time I hear from you, but yes, it has taken me almost a week and a half to respond to your last letter. I'm a horrible person, I know._

_Apparently Louis is having girl trouble at the moment. I haven't heard the details since I was in class, but from what I have heard, he and his current (ex) girlfriend had a very loud row in the middle of the common room. It seems strange since Lou usually keeps that sort of stuff quiet, but perhaps he didn't have much of a say in the matter. I have a suspicion that she chucked him. I don't know. I feel terrible now though, but he's bound to be better off. I was never particularly fond of her, but she was nice enough. Then again, this is a girl who's recently started trying to vie for spot in Lynch's inner circle…And I've warned her! So I'm sure that says something about her._

_Speaking of Colleen, she decided to call a sort of truce between us. I don't know how sincere she is, but she said she's tired of the fighting. I agreed to it because I don't think I'm any worse than I was before, but I still don't trust her. She's been nothing but polite to me since then, though…But, we both fancy the same boy and she's already told me she's not going to give up on him, so no matter how sweet she is now, it's bound to come to a head eventually._

_I hope your grandmother is feeling better. I told my mum about her and she said she was going to send some things over to her. I hope she did, or else I just painted my mum to be lazy. Oh! Easter holidays start in early April, so plan accordingly since I will be home! I'd like to see your new—well, I guess now old—place! I suppose I'd like to see you, too. Maybe…_

_With love xoxo,_

_Victoire Isabelle Weasley_

He smirked after reading her signature. Good thing she clarified or else he may have never figured out which Victoire it was from...

He glanced at the letter once again, settling on the finer points. She was coming home for Easter and that would be something to look forward to. As much as he enjoyed Simon and Susan as a pair now, it would be nice to not feel like a third wheel for a few days. Colleen Lynch calling a truce sounded like a load of bullshit if he'd ever heard it, but it seemed by her letter that Victoire seemed to realize this. That was a relief since the last thing he wanted was for her to get hurt. Still, he hoped she didn't put her guard down too much. Unlike him, who had always left his guard up in regards to everything, Victoire had a tendency to trust people a little too easily. Her friendship with Colleen in the first place was evident of that. Plus, something suspicious struck him about the timing of Louis's breakup and yet another mention of Colleen and her friends. He'd have to mention that to Victoire when he wrote back.

Looking up from the letter, he furrowed his brow in thought. In an earlier letter, Victoire had informed him that she still had a thing for Stuart Reynolds, which had made him cringe. In the same letter, she had asked him to read into what Reynolds's piss poor attempt at a Hogsmeade invitation had really meant. Apparently, she had wanted a male's perspective. Ted had tried to tell her that all Reynolds was really looking for was some quick action from her, but given her tone in the next several letters, she hadn't believed him. She still seemed stuck on him. Ted couldn't help but wonder why this stupid git wouldn't just go away already. First he gets Elizabeth, the first girl Ted ever had feelings for, and now he was after Victoire, his best friend. Forget the curing diseases; Ted needed to find a cure to make all these girls come to their senses.

His mind suddenly drifted to Elizabeth. He hadn't seen her since the day of his presentation, but that wasn't because he didn't want to, she just hadn't been around. He had almost begun to believe that she had mistakenly told him she was assigned to the second floor until about a week ago; that had been when he had heard Nate claim that some of the new trainees were some of the most attractive ones he'd even seen. Particularly one girl with dark hair, doe eyes, who was about 'this tall'—he had used his hand to indicate right below his chin—and had an amazing arse. He went on to mention some other amazing assets, but he had stopped once Hazel told him to "stop being a pig."

Still, Ted had yet to see her or work with her. He almost wondered if someone was playing a cruel joke on him by assigning Nate all her corresponding shifts while he got stuck dealing with everyone else, but he knew that wasn't the case. He wasn't sure why it even mattered since it wasn't as if working with her was guaranteed to change anything anyway.

The door to the lab suddenly opened and shut. Ted looked up from his letter and saw that Hazel was walking in for her midnight shift. He glanced at the clock above his desk, finding it almost surprising that it was midnight already.

"Hey," Hazel said as she removed her damp, snow ridden cloak. "Has it been busy tonight?"

"Not really," Ted said. He'd been there since nine o'clock and things had been particularly quiet this evening. So much so, that he had told Linus to go home early, leaving him to his own devices for the last two hours.

"Great," she said with a lazy smile. "Let's hope there are no natural disasters tonight, because I'm in no mood."

"That makes two of us," Ted said as he tossed Victoire's letter to the table and stretched before standing. "I'm going to take a bit of a break. Go grab some coffee or something. Okay?"

"Sure," she said as she pulled her hair back and started sorting through items on her desk. "Bring me back something."

"Like what?"

"Surprise me," she said.

He shrugged as he turned to leave. It was almost funny how different Hazel was these days. Ted sometimes found himself asking if this was the same girl who had been threatening to kill him time and time again for not crossing his T's and dotting his I's properly, but ever since they'd finished their project, she was much more mellow and relaxed. It was as if her entire demeanor had changed over the course of a couple weeks. Though, as Nate told him, he apparently shouldn't get too excited. They'd have the old Hazel back in no time.

The tearoom on the fifth floor was quiet as Ted entered and was met with the stark whiteness of the room. There were ten or so tables scattered around, and two Healers and a maintenance worker sat on opposite sides of the room from each other. The Healers were currently thumbing through books and talking in whispers, whereas the maintenance worker simply stared out into nothingness, lost in thought. There was a cold sort of energy in the room, and everyone looked tired and worn after what had probably been long and daunting shifts. It was the usual story for everyone who was in here this late at night. It was highly unlike the daylight hours when the atmosphere of the room was far more lively and productive.

Ted made his way straight over to a small counter where coffee and teapots were stationed. Everything else in the kitchen area was shut down and cleaned for the night—only coffee and tea after nine o'clock—and a lone cashier, a dumpy looking sort of man with pocketed skin and a crooked nose, sat solemnly at the counter's end. He looked bored to the point where his expression seemed to wish that the world would suddenly implode at any given moment. At least, that's what Ted had gathered in the twenty seconds it took to conduct the transaction to pay for his coffee.

He turned and sat at the first table he came to, noticing that the Healers had since gone and that all that remained was him and the maintenance worker. For whatever reason, he found that there was a certain charm to the tearoom at times like this. He always felt a strange sense of comfort in finding himself in nearly empty rooms that were, on any normal occasion, usually occupied by loads of people. He had felt that way at Hogwarts on the rare occasion that he had found himself in the Great Hall with no one else around, allowing him to be perfectly on his own in there. It was a strangely powerful feeling.

He stared into his coffee and began tracing the outline of the cup with his index finger just as the door to the tearoom opened and shut. He didn't look right away due to a laziness that the room somehow imposed on him, but once he did, he took a quick breath. It was Elizabeth Cole. He couldn't help but find that slightly random considering he was just thinking about her five minutes earlier.

She didn't seem to notice him, or if she did, she didn't seem to acknowledge the fact. She was in lime green robes and her hair was pulled back off her face in a messy way, as though she'd been working through the night. She went straight over to get a cup of coffee and seemed to be in her own world of thought. Ted watched her the entire time, only looking away once she grew nearer to him to pay for her purchase. Given the lack of people in the room, it was just a matter of her stepping away from the cashier to notice him sitting there. He was just curious whether she would or not.

"Ted."

She had. He looked up and smiled a little, attempting to act aloof and as if he'd just noticed her himself. "Hi."

"Hi," she said pleasantly. "Looks like you're stuck here, too."

"Yeah," he said lazily as he stared back at his coffee cup. He thought that if he faked being more tired than he actually was, it may make it easier to talk to her. He hoped she would see that he was too exhausted to be cool or charming and, thus, if he said something stupid, she would understand it was just because he was tired. "I'm here until nine in the morning."

"I'm here until five," she said as she checked her watch and looked back at him. "Mind if I sit?"

He stared at her.

"If it's not…" she said with the faintest trace of a smile, as though she was teasing him. "It's okay. I'm sure I'll find somewhere else." She turned and gestured around the all but empty room.

"No, yeah, sure," he said as he reached up and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, sorry, I'm knackered." He kicked out the chair opposite from him at the table so that she could sit.

"I can see that," she said as she sat. "I hear your lot over in antidote research have some vicious hours. I thought the Healers' days were bad."

"They're both pretty shitty," he said as he took a sip of his coffee and held the liquid in his mouth.

"True," she said as she leaned back in her chair and pulled one of her legs up underneath her. She began inspecting a nail on her finger as a silence filled between them.

Ted could almost kick himself. Here he was with Elizabeth Cole sitting less than three feet away and he couldn't think of a damn thing to say to her. Simon would say this was all too typical, which only made Ted realize that he needed to say something. Anything.

"How's your training going?" he asked.

"Fairly well," she said as she looked up. "You know, it's long, exhausting, and probably the most difficult thing that I've ever done. Not to mention that Healer Pullman likes to yell a lot, but once you get used to all of that," she made a face. "It's a ball."

He smiled.

"I haven't seen you around," she said as she laid her hands flat on the table. "I guess we've got conflicting schedules."

"Seems that way."

"I always get the pleasure of working with Nate," she said as she suddenly flared her nostrils and twisted her mouth in a sarcastic sort of smile. "Now he is a character."

Ted laughed. "I'm going to apologize in advance for everything he's ever said or will say."

She shrugged and sipped her coffee. "He doesn't bother me. He's actually quite funny when you get past all the bullshit that comes out of his mouth."

He sat up straighter and found himself smiling again. For some reason, hearing Elizabeth swear gave him a sort of thrill. He'd never thought of her as the type that would, though he wasn't sure why. It wasn't as if she had the reputation of someone who wouldn't, but actually hearing it was a whole different feeling. It was oddly attractive. It made him realize that he really didn't know anything about her.

"So, Ted Lupin," she said in an upbeat way. "What have you been up to since school?"

He looked around the room before taking his finger and twirling it in a circular motion. "You're looking at it."

"Ahh," she said. "So, the hospital's taken your life as well? I don't know about you, but I miss mine."

"I don't think I remember it well enough to miss it."

"I never see my friends or family anymore," she said heavily. "I think all but two of my friends have abandoned me for dead."

"I've managed to keep my friends pretty close," he said, "but I only ever had a close group to begin with. It's not as if I had hundreds like you did."

He made eye contact with her and noticed she was now smirking at him strangely. He realized what he had said and how she may have taken it the wrong way. "That's not to say you didn't have close friends," he added. "I didn't mean…" He hesitated. "You were just popular and—"

She laughed. "I knew what you meant. And for the record, I never had hundreds of friends."

"Maybe not literally…"

"Maybe not even close," she said hastily, but her tone was still friendly. "Just because people claim to know you, it doesn't mean they're your friends." She stared at him. "It makes me wonder what people used to say about me."

"I don't think anyone had an ill word to say about you, to be honest."

She let out a skeptical laugh. "You obviously didn't hang around large groups of catty girls that often, did you?"

He smiled and looked away. "I think that goes without saying."

"Yeah, well, consider yourself lucky. They can be vicious."

"What would they have to say?"

She shrugged. "I can't be sure, but I think a lot of it had to do with some of my friends being certain boys, and somehow, because of that, they felt as if I was some sort of threat." She made a face. "In all reality, the last thing I ever cared about was what..." she paused, "or rather, who, those boys did."

"I never heard anything."

She half smiled. "Well, that's good to know. Perhaps it was mostly in my head. It just seemed like Colleen Lynch—"

Ted rolled his eyes. "Say no more. That explains everything. Why is she always at the root of so many of these stories?"

Her smile grew wider and Ted felt a swooping feeling in his stomach knowing he had caused it. "Because she's the root of evil," she laughed, "I always felt as if she was trying to be my friend, but for the wrong reasons. As if she was trying to weasel her way in between Stu and me." She stopped to clarify, "Stuart Reynolds. You remember him?"

He looked at her blankly and nodded. "Um, yeah. Sort of."

"He and I used to date."

Ted continued nodding. He was surprised by the fact that she felt the need to explain this to him. She had to know that the entire school had not only known who both she and Stuart were individually, but also that they were dating and had been for years. She could downplay her popularity all she wanted, but she and Reynolds were the 'it' couple no matter how she tried to spin it.

"Anyway," she added as she looked down at the table and started flicking her fingers together. "For years I dealt with her crap, but that's all in the past." She sighed. "She can have him now."

"Have who?" he asked.

"Stuart."

"Oh," he said as he remembered everything Victoire had told him about the two of them having split up. He decided to feign dumb anyway. "You two split up, then?"

She grimaced slightly. "For good this time, I swear." She rolled her eyes and adjusted the way she was sitting. "Anyway, he's the last thing I feel like talking about. How about you? Are you still with…?" She paused and looked as if she was trying to remember. "Celia, right? I'm not making that up, am I?"

"Yeah, it was Celia," he said as he lowered his voice. "And no, we split up a few months ago."

She made a slightly sympathetic face that he had a feeling had everything to do with the tone he had just used. The last impression he wanted to give off was that he was still sore about the breakup or nursing a broken heart of any kind.

"I'm over it," he added quickly. "It was for the better."

She nodded. "I hear you. Sometimes it's hard to cut the tie when it seems like you've spent so much time and put so much effort into someone. But when you're going in different directions, what can you do?"

"Yeah, exactly," he said with a small smile as he rested his arms on the table. "No, that's exactly why we split up."

"That's why Stu and I split up the first time." Her face grew sarcastic again. "I mean, me being here and him being at school just seemed like too much. But then after a few months apart and then seeing him again, you know, sometimes things happen…We got back together." She made a face and shook her head. "We split up again right before Christmas holidays. Rumor has it that he's interested in some other girls anyway."

Ted immediately thought of Victoire. He couldn't help but notice Elizabeth's use of the word 'girls'—plural. Perhaps she didn't have a clue and was just being flippant, but knowing that Victoire could fancy some idiot who could easily fancy twenty other girls at the same time wasn't a reassuring thought. Reynolds seemed like the type that could easily break hearts, and the last thing Ted wanted was for one of them to be his friend's.

"I just really hope one of them isn't Colleen," Elizabeth added, her tone laced with acrimony. "I know I said I didn't care, but honestly…" She stopped and laughed. "Okay, I'll stop now before I make you think I'm a horrible person who just talks about other people all day."

"Nah, I don't think that," he said, now cracking his knuckles anxiously.

"Well, you clearly don't know me well enough," she joked. "You remember Dave Thorpe? From Potions?"

He nodded.

"He's one of the few people I still really keep in contact with from school these days," she began, "and he's constantly on about how I'm probably one of the bitchiest people that he's ever met, but that I'm really good at fooling people otherwise." She grinned. "I think he's exaggerating the"—she made air quotes—"bitchiest person ever part, but sometimes I wonder if he's not too far off the mark."

"I don't see you as bitchy at all," Ted said. He wasn't even attempting to be flirty at this point. In all the years he had known her, he had literally never seen or heard her be a bitch to anyone.

"Well, I like to think I'm not." She smiled. "I'm just very honest with people, particularly if I'm close to them. I suppose that makes me bitchy sometimes. I mean, Dave made that comment right after I told him that his new sofa was probably the most horrifying thing I'd ever seen, but you have to understand," she leaned forward with an almost childlike excitement in her eyes, as if she was sharing a secret, "it was hideous. He's an idiot for having bought it."

Ted laughed.

"And if Dave really thought I was such a bitch, then he would have taken the easy way out when Stu and I split up. He could have sided with him. They were friends first, after all. But instead, it seems as though I got Dave in our little divorce." She smiled a little. "He's always around now and claims he never even talks to Stu anymore."

Ted nodded and suddenly wondered if David Thorpe's intentions were a little more involved than Elizabeth perhaps understood. Calling her the bitchiest person ever was probably a thinly veiled attempt at flirting with her in their own personal sort of way; they obviously had a rapport that was beyond being casual friends. He didn't doubt she probably called him some equally derisive names that she didn't really mean. At the end of the day, they probably both laughed about it.

Then just like that, Ted felt as though he was at Hogwarts all over again. Elizabeth had gone from what he had hoped was just another pretty girl that he happened to work with, back to the girl who had guys like David Thorpe ready to do whatever it took to get her attention. Competing with guys like Nate was one thing, but dealing with guys like David and the others just like him that Ted didn't even know about…? It was exhausting to even think about.

It shouldn't have surprised him that she would still be practically unattainable. Nothing had changed since they were fourteen. She was attractive, witty, seemingly fun to be around, and not to mention confident. She handled herself in a way that to him was practically the definition of attractive, and what did he have? As far as he was concerned he was ordinary in all the wrong ways and extraordinary in all the strange ways. Who cares if you can change your appearance when you can't even come up with worthy conversation topics or cool things to do? Fancying her was just wasted effort.

"I should be getting back," Ted said as he smiled a little and started to stand. "My coworker probably thinks that I got lost or something."

"Thanks for keeping me company," Elizabeth said with a smile. "It was nice talking to you, Ted. It's funny, but I feel as if we spent seven years floating around the same pool at school, but we didn't have much interaction. It's a shame, because you always seemed like an interesting sort of guy."

He smirked. "Yeah, well, it was hard to see me with your hundreds of friends standing in the way."

"Oh, you're a smartarse, too?" she asked dryly, but still managing to return his smirk. "Perhaps I had you pegged all wrong."

"How'd you have me pegged?" he asked as a pang of genuine curiosity came over him.

"As a nice guy."

"I am a nice guy."

"Yeah, that's what they all say," she said as she stood as well. "Maybe you're just really good at fooling everyone."

"No," he said thoughtfully. "I've been told I'm a shitty liar, so by default, that actually makes me a nice guy."

"By default?" she asked before letting out a small laugh. "Do you listen to yourself?"

He blushed—he couldn't even remember the last time he had blushed—and looked away, though he still managed to keep his smile up no matter how goofy he may appear. "Yeah, I don't claim to be cool."

"Well, who is?" she asked before walking forward towards the door. "I mean, you're a Metamorphmagus. To a lot of people," she stopped and turned back around to face him with a playful smile, "by default, is pretty cool."

"I've never heard that one before," he said as he followed her out into the corridor.

"I think it is," she said. "And at school people did. If you're going to talk about everyone knowing who I was, then you really can't claim to have not been in the same spot. Everyone knew who you were, too."

Ted didn't answer her, but he couldn't help but feel a little amused at her not realizing the difference between people knowing who you were because you were revered and admired versus people knowing who you were because you stood out from everyone else for being different.

At the same time though, something inside him had jumped a little as she said it. Maybe, she didn't care either way.


	12. Hopping the Fence

On a lazy Thursday afternoon, Ted entered the lab after having spent the last two hours down on the first floor studying the effects of poisonous snake bite antidotes. It was a nice change of pace considering he'd been doing virus remedies for so long that he'd almost forgotten that other ailments could fall upon people.

He sat behind his desk. It was late in the afternoon and he'd missed lunch. He was starving and could feel his stomach lurch uncomfortably, as though it was ready to eat itself. He started weighing the options as to whether he should go upstairs and get himself food or not when the door to the lab slammed shut louder than it usually did. Herbertson had just entered the lab with his nose buried in a folder.

"Lupin," Herbertson said. "What are you doing?"

"I was just about to—"

"Is it a life or death matter?"

He blinked. He knew that Herbertson was actually being literal in his question. "No, sir, it's just—"

"Healer Pullman just had a dragon pox patient admitted and would like someone down there to walk through an evaluation with her trainees."

Ted looked from him to his desk top and then back again. Usually they were given some notice before Pullman asked them to talk so they had something prepared to speak about. He wouldn't even know where to begin off the top of his head. "Right now?"

He sighed in an aggravated manner. Lately, Ted had noticed that it seemed as if everything was annoying Herbertson. "Do you have more important plans?"

His stomach grumbled at that very moment. "No, it's just—" He stopped and forced an obedient smile. "It's no problem."

"That's what I suspected." He turned away and marched back towards his office. Ted waited until he was full behind the closed door before rolling his eyes and standing. He threw on his ward robes and grabbed some of his random pox findings before making his way down a floor to the Magical Bug ward. Who needs food anyway?

The second he stepped off the lift, he was greeted by Healer Pullman and three of her trainees. Among them was Elizabeth, who was currently staring at a chart Healer Pullman was brandishing around and lecturing them about.

Ever since their conversation in the tearoom a few weeks before, he and Elizabeth had had far more run-ins than before that day. It was almost as if someone had answered his request to work more shifts with her since almost directly after thinking it, he had found their schedules overlapping at least three times a week. She was just as pleasant as ever, and they'd even developed a friendlier rapport with each other that didn't convince Ted one way or another as to whether he actually had a shot with her. If anything, they just seemed as though they were becoming friends rather than anything else, but he'd take what he could get.

"Mr. Lupin," said Pullman, smiling once he drew closer. "Excellent. I was afraid that Mr. Herbertson hadn't heard me."

"Loud and clear, apparently," Ted said with a polite smile, which he then turned towards the three people standing with her. Besides Elizabeth, there was a man called Orilis, who was about five or six years older than Ted was. He was a senior trainee with only one rotation to go before he was a full blown Healer. He was rather quiet, and had a nervous habit about him where he would constantly be adjusting his pair of thick rimmed-glasses for no real reason.

The other was a girl named Brina Joles, who was a willowy sort of girl with some of the curliest hair that Ted had ever seen. She was a go-getter type who talked a lot; the type that would do whatever it took to succeed. Ted actually remembered her from Hogwarts. She had been two years ahead of him and, not surprisingly, Head Girl.

"We have a man," Pullman said as she walked along and beckoned the group to follow. "He is thirty-seven-years-old and claiming to have been suffering the early symptoms of dragon pox for several days."

So he was treatable and probably non-fatal. This was the sort of news Ted liked to hear. He had never considered becoming a Healer for the reason that he didn't like the idea of dealing with death on a daily basis. Once the potions and antidotes were out of his hands, he liked to stop thinking about what may or may not transpire after that.

"Trainee Healer Orilis," Pullman continued as they entered a room where a curtain was drawn around a centrally located bed. "What symptoms is the patient presenting?" As she said this, she pulled the curtain back to reveal a sleeping man covered in green boils from head to toe.

"Green boils," Orilis said. "And a looming fever of thirty-nine degrees Celsius."

"No vomiting or hallucinations yet," Brina said suddenly, as if she was answering a question that no one had asked.

"But they're coming," Pullman said coolly as she pulled out her wand and ran it down the length of the man's body. "There's a temperature increase to thirty-nine point three degrees and most likely growing." She turned to face the group. "Conventional treatment calls for what?"

Brina raised her hand straight away, but Pullman turned towards Elizabeth. "Trainee Healer Cole?"

"Conventionally," Elizabeth said as she took a step forward and observed the patient. "At this stage of the disease would be several rounds of Fever Reduction Potions and a prescribed cream for the boils," she looked at Pullman, "to ease in his discomfort."

"This would be true," she said as she looked from Brina to Orilis, "but with his fever at this range, it means the third stage—"

"Vomiting," Brina interrupted.

"I'm quite aware of what the third stage is Trainee Healer Joles," said Pullman.

"Oh, I was just—"

"As I was saying," she said curtly as Ted grinned a little from behind the group where he was observing. He had a feeling that working directly for Pullman wasn't easy given she had quite the reputation about St. Mungo's for being strict and merciless, but since he only had to deal with her sparingly, he rather liked her. He found her funny.

"With a fever increasing this rapidly," Pullman continued, "the third stage is inevitable and thus, we must act accordingly to stop it from progressing to the fourth stage." She stopped and looked at Brina as if waiting for her to fill the group in on what that was. When she didn't, she turned to Ted.

"So, Mr. Lupin," she said, stepping aside. "Conventional healing aside, do tell us about the most recent findings." She turned towards her trainees. "And do pay attention because it's only a matter of time before this becomes a new protocol."

"Well," Ted said as all three trainees stared at him. "As we've found, if caught in the fever stage and responded upon quickly, the recuperation time can be cut in half if fluids are administered with a Swelling Reduction Solution—"

"But isn't that risky?" Brina asked. "If there's no visible swelling, then wouldn't that cause adverse effects on the body instead of helping?"

Ted looked from her to Pullman, who seemed to find the question valid and thus encouraged him to answer it. He hated this part.

"Not if you use the new Swelling Solution we've been researching," he said as he glanced at Elizabeth. She was trying not to smirk. He had made mention to her the week before about how much he hated these lecture situations that Pullman put him into. Since then, she seemed to find it funny whenever he was forced to talk to all of them.

"In every trial we've run," he continued, "it's been able to pre-target the swelling of the body that comes in stage six of dragon pox and in turn, creates a welcomed reaction on the fever." He paused. "It's basically curing the symptoms the person has by pre-attacking the symptoms they haven't experienced yet."

"The solution knows what's coming?" Brina asked skeptically. "It can see into the future?"

"Something like that, but not really," Ted said as he looked at the man lying in the bed. He was beginning to stir in his sleep.

"These are all the latest findings straight from Russia," Pullman said as the man in the bed groaned and opened his eyes. "It's a remarkable discovery."

"Where am I?" asked the man.

Pullman proceeded to dote on him. "Here at St. Mungo's. You're quite ill, Mr. Goyle."

He mumbled something that Ted couldn't hear as all four of the Healers in the room started fussing over him and administering various antidotes and remedies, one of which being the one he had just talked about. Assuming his time here was done, Ted took a few steps towards the door to leave.

"Mr. Lupin," Pullman said as she checked over what her trainees were doing before stepping back and walking towards him. "A quick word?"

"Sure," he said.

She gestured into the hallway. "I know nothing's been confirmed about a second instructional trip to Russia," she said, "but if the details can be worked out, which I'm sure they will be, I plan on sending some of my trainees over there with your group. Three or perhaps four of them. I planned on doing this on your last trip, but the timing was so poor with the rotation changes that it didn't work itself out. I think it would be extremely useful to their training experience to do this."

"Yeah," he nodded, "absolutely."

"Which is why," she continued, "and I've mentioned this to Miss Gilbert, but I would like your and the rest of your team's assistance in picking who should attend if such an event does materialize. I plan on making a short list of the trainees I have, and then I'd like you and Miss Gilbert and Mr. Connolly to pick the ones you feel would be the best suited to help."

"Sure." Ted shrugged as he smiled a little. It would be nice to have more people tag along to Russia. It would be really nice to have a diversion from Hazel and Nate's' arguing and it would be especially nice if one of those people were Elizabeth.

"Glad to—" She stopped. Someone had just let out a loud scream from the room they had just been in. She immediately turned on her heels and darted back into the room to inspect the source of the noise. Ted followed, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Standing there, the front of her robes covered in vomit, was Brina. She was making a face that seemed to want to cry, or perhaps throw up. Orilis, who was next to her, seemed to have caught a bit down the front of his as well, though nowhere near as much as Brina did.

"Stage three," Elizabeth said obviously.

"Thank you, Trainee Healer Cole, I can see that," said Pullman in an annoyed tone. She pointed to the doorway. "You two, clean up and report back to me the second you've finished. Honestly, was the screaming necessary? If I had a Galleon for every time I'd been vomited on…" She trailed off. "Trainee Healer Cole, you'll clean up Mr. Goyle while the others wash up." She turned towards Brina as she shuffled past her and out the door. "Trainee Healer Joles, some decorum in front of the patients."

Ted watched them go before smirking at Elizabeth, who had crossed the room to grab towels. "Way to stay out of the line of fire."

"It was projectile," she whispered in a slightly horrified way as she walked back across the room and started cleaning up the mess. "It went everywhere."

"Yeah, it generally is at this stage," he said as he tried to hide his laughter.

"Well," she mumbled as she started toweling the floor, "not all of us are experts on the subject." She looked over at him. "Nice lecture by the way," she joked. "You know you sound just like Professor Holt when you get like that."

He made a face. "I do not."

"You do, too." She laughed.

"Well, you have fun cleaning all of that up," he said with a smug smile and a quick wave. "By the way, you missed a spot over there." He pointed to the floor. "And there. Oh, and there."

She shook her head. "You better not leave me alone with all of…" She looked at the mess on the floor, the bed, and Mr. Goyle, "this." She sighed. "And I thought you liked Holt? That could technically have been a compliment."

"If that was a compliment, I don't even want to know what an insult is."

"If you keep being an arse, you'll find out." She stopped and smiled at him and as she did, he found himself wondering how it was possibly that her calling him an arse suddenly made him like her more.

"I'm starting to think Thorpe was onto something by calling you bitchy," he joked. He didn't mean a word of it, but sparring with her like this was fun. It was easy. This was the kind of flirting he could handle in spades.

"And I'm starting to think you really aren't as nice as you think you are."

"Or you just bring out the worst in me."

"Guess we weren't meant to be, then," she joked as she tossed a dirty towel aside into a disposable hamper.

Ted smiled to himself as he looked away and leaned against the door frame of the room. He thought of what Pullman had just told him in the hallway. She hadn't told him not to mention it to any of the trainees, but she may have been implying the fact. He wasn't sure, but since she hadn't explicitly stated it.

"Hey, Pullman said she wants to send some of your trainee lot to Russia."

Elizabeth stopped and turned to him. "When?"

"More like 'if,'" he said. "If we go back, then she wants to send some of you with us."

"That would be a really incredible opportunity," Elizabeth said more to herself than to him.

"Pullman's going to do a short list of people, and she's letting me, Nate, and Hazel pick who we think would be best to go, so…" He made an obvious nod towards the hallway. "Make sure you're in her good graces for the next few weeks so she'll put you on it."

"Are you saying you'd pick me if she did?" she asked.

His eyes flickered a little at her having asked him the way she had. It almost felt as though she was suddenly on to him and his intentions. "Oh, I wouldn't," he said, trying to cover his tracks, "but Nate might. Even Hazel. I'm only letting you know."

She went back to dabbing Goyle's face. "Good to know."

"And…" He smiled and decided to push his luck. "It's not as though there's much vomit to clean up after in Russia anyway, so what would we use you for?"

Her jaw dropped as she held up the rag she was currently using and pointed it at him. "I'm going to make you eat this, you smartarse."

He laughed and turned to leave. As hungry as he was, he wasn't that hungry. "Thanks, but no thanks." He shook his head. "I'm going back upstairs."

"All right," she said casually, as though they hadn't just spent the last five minutes pestering each other. "See you later."

It was there, in that instance, that Ted discovered one of the main reasons he found himself attracted to her. He didn't know too many girls who would play along with his sarcastic nature. So many would either take him too seriously or not understand the humor behind his comments—like Celia always had. He liked being able to joke around, and then, once all was said and done, knew that everything was just as it had been when the conversation started. He liked people who shared that similar trait. If only there were more people who understood and catered to that side of him.

The trip to Russia was scheduled for late April, as Ted found out in early March. Healer Pullman had promised her list of trainees to Hazel by mid-March so they could make their choices early. As it were, the four chosen trainees would have to dedicate much of their free time to being as well versed in the subject of dragon pox as possible. Pullman wanted to make sure they had enough time.

"We may have to tutor them," Hazel said as she and Ted sat in the lab staring at a sample of his own blood through a microscope. As it was, Ted had given—what felt like—half his body weight in blood samples and was beginning to fear that they may start asking for samples of other parts of him.

"Yeah," he said absently. He was too busy staring at his own blood on a slide underneath the scope of the lens to really listen. He had to admit, watching his blood—versus regular blood—react against certain potions was fairly fascinating. It reacted so violently against certain things and so passively against others. Madga believed that they just haven't found the right way to utilize it yet, but that the secret was there just begging to be discovered. Staring at it now, he wanted to believe her.

"And this stuff is running through your body," Hazel added. "Look at how it just changes the entire composition of this flobberworm specimen when mixed."

Ted pushed his chair away from the table and blinked a few times as his eyes readjusted to the light. "It's sort of weird to think about, seeing as this is what's in me."

She nodded before lifting her head up from the eyepiece and blinking a few times. "Anyway, back to the Russian thing. Who do you think Pullman will pick?"

"No idea."

"I hope she picked Orilis, since he's clearly the best suited," Hazel said. "Then maybe Ford. He seems to really understand the complexity of the disease."

Ted raised an eyebrow at her. He'd worked with Ford—a bloke who was about halfway through his training—and he'd never gotten the impression that he understood the complexity of anything. In fact, he more or less just thought that Ford was condescending and obnoxious. Not to mention cocky in a way that made Nate look like a perfect gentleman.

"After that, I don't really care," she added. "The rest are all on par with each other. Well, except for that Minkus fellow. He's a bit slow."

"So, you've got an opinion on everyone?"

"Of course I do," she said. "Don't pretend that you don't."

"I have an opinion of a few of them," he said casually as the door to the lab opened. Nate was entering with his bag slung over his shoulder. Ted checked the clock. It was noon already. After spending the morning researching himself, he'd lost track of time.

Nate nodded at the pair of them as he flung his bag towards his desk and then walked over. "What are you two doing?"

"Studying Ted," Hazel said.

"First me, now him?" he joked. "You're making your way through this place, aren't you, Hazel?"

"Well," she said without missing a beat. "When your first test ends up offering sub-par results," she looked Nate up and down, "no matter how many times you've tried to fix it, it's only right to eventually move on to something more promising."

Nate seemed impressed. "That was pretty good. It was insulting in all the right ways."

She smiled. "I thought so."

"You two are weird," Ted said as he started cleaning up around him in an attempt to get ready to leave. He started to believe that those two genuinely enjoyed the insults and arguments.

"Weird isn't even the word," Hazel mumbled as she looked back into the microscope. "I don't know why I even deal with him."

"Well, just as long as I can come to the wedding," Ted joked.

Nate made a disturbed face at this while Hazel's head shot up so quickly from the microscope that her hair flung around and whipped her in the face. "That's not even funny."

"What have I ever done to you to wish something that horrible on me?" Nate asked him.

"I'll just leave you two lovebirds at it, then," Ted said as he grabbed his bag. "I'm leaving for the afternoon."

"After that little comment, good riddance," said Hazel.

"Hey prat," Nate called just as Ted had placed his hand on the knob of the door. "Before you're off…" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of parchment. "Pullman gave me her list."

"Who's on it?" Hazel asked as she reached across the table to snatch at it. Nate pulled it out of her reach before she could.

"Your boyfriend's not."

She rolled her eyes. "And, according to you, who exactly is my boyfriend this week?"

"Jimmy Ford," Nate said as Ted walked over to see for himself. "Sorry. I knew you were hoping he would be, but alas, he didn't make the cut."

"What?" she asked. "Well, who did?"

"Six people," he said as he glanced down at the paper. "Giant O."

"Orilis," Ted clarified in case Hazel wasn't aware of all the nicknames Nate had given everyone in his free time.

"Then Squirrelly the—" he continued before Hazel snatched the list from him. "Hey…"

"Orilis," she read. "Oscars, Ebins, Cole, Joles, and Mackerson." She looked up. "How did Ford not make this if Mackerson did?"

"Because he's a prick," Ted and Nate said in unison. They grinned at each other as they said it.

"He's always been really nice to me," she mumbled.

"Because he probably wants to sleep with you," Nate said obviously. "I know for a fact that Pullman can't stand him."

"Yeah, she doesn't seem to like him much," Ted added as he read the names over again in his head. Elizabeth had made the cut.

"So, who are you picking?" Nate asked the both of them. "We get to take four and I think Orilis is the obvious one."

"I'll agree with that," Hazel said. "That leaves three. Do you want to do one pick each, or should we come to three joint decisions?"

Neither Ted nor Nate answered; instead they continued to read over the list again. Ted knew exactly who he wanted to pick, but he didn't want to come right out and say it. Elizabeth was perfectly qualified, but was essentially on par with the other choices in terms of skill level. Besides preferring her most out of the choices, he really didn't have a concrete reason to support his choice. Without that, Nate and Hazel were bound to take the piss.

"We don't have to pick right away," Hazel added. "We've got a few days."

"Yeah," Nate nodded, "we should make them prove to us who really wants it."

Hazel cocked her eyebrow. "You're not going to make them do ridiculous and stupid things just to get your vote."

He stared at her. "Why do you think so little of me?"

"Do you really want me to go there?" she asked before rounding on Ted. "Let's just sit on this for a few days and we'll make a decision at the end of the week."

Ted agreed with that. As he left the hospital, his mind raced about the possibilities of what could happen. Of course, nothing was guaranteed, but spending several days in Russia being stuck with Elizabeth…well, there were worse things he could think of doing.

Even after he had gone home that day and slept for a few hours, he had a strange dream about it all. Stuck in Russia with her, he was far more cool and charming than he usually found himself and, of course, she found him to be irresistible. However, when the time came for things to get interesting, of all the strange things that could have happened, James Potter turned up asking if he wanted to play Quidditch with him. The next thing he knew, he was at Hogwarts on the Quidditch pitch and Simon was there. So were Victoire, and James, and Nate, and Professor Holt of all people. They were all dressed and ready to play.

He woke up and looked around his room. It was still daylight out, but given the dull golden glow of the light reflecting off the walls it was clearly still afternoon time. He checked the clock and noticed it was ten minutes to six. Plopping back on his pillow, he stared up at the ceiling and reminisced over what he could still remember about his dream. What the hell had that been about?

He got up and rubbed his face vigorously in an attempt to wake himself up and pull himself together. It was dinner time, which meant he could swing by Harry's. Over the last few weeks, he had been using every free dinner period he had to come over and visit. Harry didn't seem to mind, in fact, he encouraged it and claimed that they made too much food anyway. Still, Ted wasn't sure he wanted to impose again…That was until he checked his kitchen and realized he had literally nothing to eat. He walked back to his room and changed his clothes before Apparating across town.

Albus answered the door after Ted had knocked. He looked up at him. "Why do you knock?"

"Because it's polite," Ted said as he tousled his hair. "You wouldn't know anything about that though, would you, Al?"

He smiled a little. "I do too." He suddenly punched Ted in the leg. It didn't hurt, but this was the fourth time that Albus had punched him over his last four visits. It wasn't one of his more amusing or adorable phases, but Harry had claimed it all stemmed from a lack of having his older brother around to wrestle with. Apparently, Albus had too much energy to burn.

"Teddy!" Lily said upon noticing him. She immediately rushed to the living room to grab something before meeting him back where he was standing. "Look, look!" She held up a sketch book and pointed. "Look what I did."

He examined it. Expecting a dragon or a horse, which were Lily's two favorite things to draw, but instead it looked like neither. It looked like a man, but it was as if she was being abstract by drawing multiple noses and mouths. "It's great, Lil, but what is it?"

Her face fell. "You can't tell?"

He glanced at Albus for a little help, but he was busy placing his chocolate frog cards one by one on the coffee table. "It looks like a man."

"It is a man." She was nodding. "You really can't tell?"

"Is it your dad?"

She shook her head and pulled the book back from him. "He's not wearing glasses."

"Yeah, but he's also got two noses and I'm sure your dad doesn't have that, either."

"It's you!"

He took the book back and examined it again. "My eyes aren't green and I'm pretty sure I only have one nose and mouth."

"Yes, but you could have more," she said as if was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's you after you've transformed and given yourself extra! Duh." She rolled her eyes and shook her head, leaving Ted to feel as if he should have clearly realized all of this from the get-go.

"Where's your dad?" Ted asked as he sat behind Albus and started examining his cards with him.

"Outside in the shed," Albus said without turning around. "He's fixing my broom."

"What happened to your broom?"

"I broke it."

Ted stared at the back of his head. "How?"

He turned around to face him, shuffling the cards he had in his hands as he did so. "You know the side wall in the garden? Not the far wall, but the high one."

Ted nodded.

"I was up there trying to get some height so I could jump, but my broom fell over the opposite side and broke at the end. Dad's fixing it."

"You break more things…" Ted began, but at the moment the front door opened and in came Ginny with a large bag in her arms.

"Hello," she said. "Hi, Teddy."

"Hey, Ginny," he as he observed the bag. "You need some help with that?"

"Oh, no, I'm okay." She lugged the bag from one arm to the other. "Hey Al, how was your day?"

He shrugged without looking at her and instead continued to focus on his cards. "Fine."

"Will you do me a favor and set the table for dinner?"

He made a face and rounded on her. "But Ted's just offered to help. Make him do it."

"I'm asking you," she said as her eyes narrowed on him. "Or else I'm taking away all of those cards."

Albus made an angry breathing noise through his nose as he stood and stomped into the kitchen. Ginny sighed before turning back to Ted. "So, how have you been, Teddy?"

"Eh, alright. I worked all night, so, you know."

"I've been at work since," she shook her head, "I don't even remember. We've got a quarterly to print down at the Daily Profit so things have been mad. Oh, by the way, I've officially got a hold on some World Cup tickets. Just so you know."

Ted smiled. "When is it? August?"

"Yeah, early August, I believe. Are you going to manage to get off work?"

He smiled. "I will kill and pillage if I have to."

"It seems most people would," she said with a small laugh just as Lily entered the room from the kitchen. Her hands were full of plates and silverware.

"Hi, Mummy," she said as she set everything down on the table.

"Why are you setting the table?" Ginny asked.

Lily looked confused. "Because Al said I had to."

"Albus Severus!" Ginny called before the slamming of the back door reverberated into the living room. Lily peeked back around into the kitchen before turning back towards her mother.

"He's gone outside."

"Honestly, I don't know what's gotten into him lately," Ginny said as she shook her head.

"Maybe he's trying to fill the void that James left," Ted suggested. "With him gone, he's got to work double the effort to give you and Harry a hard time."

"Lately, he's been filling it well," she said heavily. "Something's gotten into him."

"Want me to talk to him?"

"Be my guest," she said. "He won't talk to me or his father."

"I'll give it a go," he said as he walked across the room and into the kitchen. He passed through the side door and into the garden where Harry was just then emerging from the shed.

"Hey, Ted," he said as he wiped his hand on a towel. "What's up?"

"Not too much," he said. "Where'd Al go?"

Harry looked around. "I don't know. He poked his head into the shed for a second, but then disappeared. I thought he went back into the house."

"He's hiding from his mum right now, so that's the last place he'd go."

Harry took a deep breath. It looked as if he didn't even have to hear what Albus may have done, just that he had done something. "Hey, Al," he called out.

There was no answer.

"He's probably hopped the wall and gone down to the park," Harry said. "It's what James used to do. Now it seems that it's what Al does, too."

"I'll go find him," Ted said, glancing at the back wall of the garden, which, once hopped, led into the neighbors' yard. Just beyond their house was a playground and a small park that Ted had frequented many times when he was younger. He wouldn't be the one to tell Harry this—although he suspected Harry knew and simply forgot—but he had been the one to teach James how to hop the back wall in the first place.

He hoisted himself over the wall; something that he noted was much easier to do now that he had over a foot of extra height to work with. Jumping into the neighbors' yard and darting down the side of their house and across the street, it only took him a few seconds to recognize Albus sitting on a swing set. The playground was otherwise empty.

"You weren't very hard to find," Ted said as he approached him.

"Is mum mad?"

"She's not happy."

"I just didn't feel like setting the table," he mumbled. He gently began rocking himself back and forth on the swing.

Ted sat down in the swing next to him and began rocking as well. "Yeah, but sometimes we all have to do things we don't want to do."

"That's a mixed message," Albus said as he stared down at the ground. "One minute, I'm being told I don't have to do anything that I don't feel is right, and the next, I'm being told I have to do things I don't want to."

Ted smiled. "Yeah, but there's a difference you're missing."

"What's the difference?"

"Are you somehow morally opposed to setting the table?"

"What's 'morally opposed' mean?"

"Is there a reason you believe that you shouldn't have to? Does it disagree with something you believe in?"

Albus was quiet for a moment. "I believe in myself not having to do it, so it disagrees with that."

Ted laughed. "Sorry buddy, but it doesn't work that way."

"It's stupid," he said. "I'm not a little kid anymore."

"You're eleven."

"That's not little."

"It's not exactly big, either."

"So, when do I get to do what I want to do?"

"Honestly," Ted shrugged, "never. Someone will always have some sort of say in what you're doing. Whether it be your parents, your teachers, your boss, your friends. It's what keeps people in check. Otherwise, everyone would be running around like a bunch of nutters."

Albus kicked some dirt with the tip of his shoe.

"That's not to say you won't get control of your life though, Al," Ted said as he pushed himself forward on the swing. "And it'll be great, but you've got to take the good with the bad. Is it really worth fighting with your mum and dad over setting the table? Is that battle worth fighting?"

"Probably not."

"So, why have it?"

"I dunno."

"Pick your battles, buddy." He put his feet into the ground and stopped the swing dead in its tracks. "Your mum says you've been really disagreeable lately. Is something going on?"

He shook his head.

"Nothing's bothering you?"

He shook his head again.

"You're sure? Is it…?" He paused and ran through a list of things that could be going on in an eleven-year-old's life. "Your sister?"

"No."

"Your friends? Or your cousins?"

"No."

"Are you in love?"

He made a repulsed face. "No."

"Did you kill someone and you're having a hard time thinking of where to put the body?"

Albus laughed loudly. "No."

"Do you miss your brother?"

"No," he said, but not as affirmatively as the other times.

"I won't tell anyone if you do."

He didn't react. He just stared at the ground.

"Maybe you're bored because James isn't around to talk to or hang out with?" he suggested. "And because you're so bored, you've started acting out? Picking fights about little things like setting the table, because hey, at least a fight is something to do, right?"

Albus looked at him. "No…'

"I think a lot of us have been there," Ted said. "Or at least I have. I was so bored one summer that I was pushing my luck all the time just to see if I could. I was probably your age when, one day, my Grams told me to go clean my room, but I didn't want to. I think Victoire was over and I was probably trying to seem cool, so I decided to answer with, 'Who cares about all of that shit anyway?'"

Albus smiled at him. Ted never swore around the kids, but there was something in the moment that made him feel like Albus would see it as a gesture of commonality if Ted talked to him like—or what Albus perceived to be like—an adult.

"Anyway," Ted continued. "I got a bar of soap bewitched to scrub my mouth out. When I managed to get away from it, she charmed it to follow me around. I was eating soap for a good half an hour."

Albus laughed. "Gross."

"Yeah, and that's the thing," he said. "It wasn't even worth it. It had been stupid. That's when I learned that you have to pick your battles, and you have to pick what's really worth arguing against."

"I guess so," he said slowly, but there was a tone of understanding in his voice that made Ted feel as though his point had hit home.

"It's March," Ted said as he stood from the swing. "In six months time, you'll be at Hogwarts. It's just a matter of waiting it out."

"I know," Albus said as he stood. "It just feels like forever."

Ted smiled. "Let's get back to the house. Your parents are probably wondering where we disappeared to."

"All right," he said as they both started back towards the house. "And just so you know, I only miss James a little bit. But don't tell anyone I said that."

"Got it," Ted said. "Your secret's safe with me."


	13. Making a Choice

"I say," Simon said as he and Ted sat in the Ministry of Magic's cafeteria on Simon's lunch break, "you ask her out. Just do it."

Ted had been pulling his fork towards his mouth, but paused and held it in midair at hearing this. He stared at Simon.

"I'm serious," Simon added.

"Okay, perhaps you've forgotten who Elizabeth is," Ted said matter-of-factly. "Do you need a reminder?"

"Oh, I remember her," he said with a small smile. "She was easily the second prettiest girl we went to school with. You don't forget a face like that."

"Who was the first?" Ted asked with his mouth full.

Simon looked at him as though he was surprised he even had to ask. "Victoire."

Ted rolled his eyes before swallowing. "Hey, did I tell you she's coming home for Easter?"

"Is she?"

He nodded.

"We'll have to get together. I want her to meet Susan," he smiled, "the woman who stole my heart away from her."

"You keep telling yourself that," Ted joked. "Oh, hey, you should hear all the shit she's dealing with at school. She wrote me a seven page letter the other day. Something about how Lynch is trying to sabotage her friends' relationship to get to her or something. It was almost like a conspiracy theory or something. I couldn't even keep up it was so crazy."

"Her life always was far more interesting than ours ever were," Simon said. "And why are you changing the subject? You still haven't given me a real reason as to why you won't ask Elizabeth out."

"Come on, you know girls like her only date pretty boys and those types."

"You would still believe that."

"What the hell isn't to believe?"

"We're not in school anymore," he said. "Things have changed. People have changed. Remember Bennivus Morter? That big Slytherin bloke who used to rag on us when we were smaller? Remember he pushed me down a hill second year?"

"What about him?"

"The other day, I was walking around here," he made a general gesture around the room indicating the Ministry, "and I just so happened to run into him. Not only did he stop to talk, but he was actually pleasant. Even said something like, 'I was a bit much in school…'"

"What's your point?"

"My point is," Simon said with obvious emphasis. "People do change. You said it yourself that you and Elizabeth get along, what the hell do you have to lose?"

"My dignity."

"That's overrated anyway."

"I see her all the time," Ted continued. "Let's say I did, and she…oh, I don't know, laughs in my face. Then what? Suddenly—"

"She's not going to laugh in your face," Simon muttered.

"Suddenly," Ted repeated. "Work is now awkward and I've already got enough shit to deal with there, I don't need things to be awkward on top of it."

"You're a wanker," Simon said. "Go ahead, keep letting girls you fancy slip right through your fingers, but don't bitch when they do."

"I can't believe you can't honestly see my side of things," Ted said as he leaned back in his chair. "I work with her."

"Oh, no," Simon said sarcastically. "I have no fucking clue what it's like to work with someone you fancy and then risk…oh, wait."

Ted sighed. He realized that Simon was the probably last person who was going to be opposed to work relationships.

"Hell," Simon continued as he chewed his food, "given how much you work, you only have time to meet people at the hospital."

Ted took one last bite of his lunch. "Speaking of work, I got to go."

"You need to ask Elizabeth out."

"Sure thing," he said unconvincingly.

"Seriously, do it or donate your penis to your lab for research or something because you've clearly got no use for it."

"I'll get right on that," he said as he stood up. "I'll see you later."

He made his way out of the Ministry and quickly Apparated to St. Mungo's where he found himself entering an empty lab. He sat behind his desk and stared blankly at the wall for a minute, trying to remember what exactly he had to do today. It was an easy day as far as he could tell, unless some sort of disaster occurred. He did need to go check and see if the elderly patient who had come the day before was taking to the spattergroit trial he had administered, so he stood, threw on his robes, and made his way downstairs.

Somewhat surprisingly, Nate was there already. What wasn't surprising was that he was currently leaning against the nurses' station attempting to woo Agnes. She, in turn, was politely putting up with him, as she always did. It seemed like just another typical Friday on the second floor.

"Hey, Lupin," Nate said as he noticed him approaching. "The lady didn't take to the spattergroit treatment if that's what you're here for."

"What?" Ted asked.

Agnes nodded her head solemnly from behind the counter. "She passed early this morning. Healer Entwhistle said little could be done. She was too old."

Ted dropped his patient folder on the desk. He hated this part because it made everything seem so real. "Damn."

"I can't really say I expected her to pull through, to be honest," Nate said. "It was a really experimental treatment that would have been hard for a younger person to—" He stopped when Brina Joles appeared beside him. She was smiling at both Nate and Ted.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," they both said as they exchanged quick looks. Apparently, all of Pullman's trainees had received word of the Russian trip from one source or another. They had also heard that Nate, Hazel, and Ted were all helping to finalize the list. It seemed that in an effort to be chosen, each was campaigning for themselves at every chance they got. None harder than Brina, though. Her brown-nosing was becoming more and more aggressive the closer they got to picks being made. Ted assumed—and both Nate and Hazel had agreed—that she would probably rob Gringotts if it meant securing herself a position on the trip.

"You both look really healthy and bright eyed," she said cheerfully. "Getting lots of rest, then?"

"Um, sure," Nate said, giving Ted an amused look.

"I was just going up to the tearoom," she said, "and wanted to see if anyone wanted anything."

"I'm good, thanks," Ted said, though Nate seemed to ponder the question.

"I'd love some coffee, actually."

"Great," she said happily as she turned and headed towards the lifts. "Not a problem."

"With sugar," he called after her as she disappeared. "I hope she heard. I'd hate to have to send her back up." Agnes rolled her eyes, causing Nate to quickly add, "Not that I would. I'm just saying…" He turned towards Ted. "I mean, it's not as if I'm making her do this. She's offering."

"You better pick that poor girl," Agnes said.

"I will if she's the most qualified.".

Agnes scoffed at him before she went back to filling out a chart in front of her. Nate stared at her for a long second before looking at Ted. "What about you Ted, have you decided who you'd pick?"

"I have someone in mind," he said.

"Who?"

He shrugged just as he happened to notice Elizabeth and Gina Oscars, another trainee, exiting one patient room and entering another just down the hall.

"I bet I know," Agnes said in a sing-song tone as she stared in the direction that Elizabeth had just been in. Ted immediately looked at her. He suddenly wished he had the power to will people to keep their mouths shut.

"Yeah?" Nate asked with a curious expression. "Who?"

She shrugged and smiled at Ted.

"What the hell?" Nate asked as he glanced from one to another. "We're keeping secrets?"

"There is no secret," Ted said as he avoided Agnes's eyes. "I don't even know who I'm picking, I just have an idea." He looked at Nate. "Why? Do you know who you're picking?"

"I have it narrowed down," he said. "Since Hazel picked Darius Ebins, it made my options smaller."

"So, who'd you narrow it down to?"

"Well, before I'd heard Hazel's choice, I'd narrowed it down to Oscars, Cole, and Joles—"

"All girls," Agnes said. "Shocking."

"You know," Nate said to her. "You could easily make me stop looking at other girls forever if you'd just go out with me."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to do that," she said without looking up at him.

Nate made an aggravated face before brushing it off and turning back to Ted. "Anyway, those are the three. So, you tell me who you want to pick, that way it'll narrow my choices down further."

Ted looked away and scratched his head. "Um, I was going to, I mean, I was thinking about picking Elizabeth."

Agnes made a short noise that sounded a lot like a giggle.

Nate nodded. "Hazel said you'd say that."

"She…" Ted looked at him fairly surprised. "She did?"

"Madga was the one who actually mentioned it." He shrugged. "You two are just chummy, is all." His smile grew a little wider. "She reckons you fancy her."

Agnes made another giggly sounding noise, but was doing her best to not look up from what she was working on.

"Well, she's wrong," Ted said before looking away and shaking his head as if that was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard, though, he knew his body language was saying the opposite. "And you're wrong, too, Agnes."

"I didn't say a word," she said.

"We went to school together. We're friends."

"It's not a bad thing," Nate said. "She's gorgeous. If she gave me the time of day, I'd be—" He stopped when Agnes looked up from what she was doing and smirked at him as if waiting expectantly for the next words out of his mouth. "I'd be a gentleman and tell her I wasn't interested because I'm really into this pretty nurse who keeps rebuffing me and breaking my heart."

"Oh, for the love of Merlin," she mumbled before she turned to walk away.

Nate watched her go. "She wants me. I just feel it." He nudged Ted. "So, Elizabeth, eh?"

"I like how just because I want to pick her," he said defensively, "everyone thinks I fancy her."

"Fancy who?" asked a voice.

Ted turned and saw both Gina and Elizabeth standing on his other side. They were turning in paperwork to the nurse's station. Gina had been the one who had asked, but both she and Elizabeth were now paying attention.

"Nothing," Ted said quietly.

"We're talking about Agnes," Nate offered. "See, I'm in love with her, but she won't give me a chance."

Gina said, "Aww," while Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. However, Agnes, who was across the room pretending not to be listening, simply laughed.

"Why not, Agnes?" Gina called across the counter. "Nate's not so bad."

"Yes, why not?" Nate asked. "I'm not so bad."

"You haven't gotten to know him well enough," Agnes called back as several of the other nurses laughed. At that moment, Brina Joles returned with a cup of coffee in her hand and thrust it proudly at Nate.

"Here you go." She smiled brightly. "With sugar."

"Excellent," he said. "First class."

Elizabeth suddenly nudged Ted on his side. He glanced at her and saw she was beckoning him down so she could whisper something. "Please tell me she didn't do that for the reasons I think she did.

He made an obvious face.

"I can't believe the lengths she'll go to…" She trailed off and shook her head. She was still standing quite close given that she was still trying to keep her voice down. He couldn't help but notice that she smelled really good.

He turned around so he was facing her but not the rest of the group. "Some people are just very dedicated and hardworking."

"Gina seems to think that she's this close to," she held her index finger and her thumb an inch apart, "offering to shag you or Nate to get to go Russia. But, I say she's already offered."

Ted laughed and looked over his shoulder to where Brina was telling Nate some long winded sounding story about how hard a worker she is. "Well, she hasn't yet, but I don't have to pick until this afternoon, so there's still time."

"Have you made your decision as to who you'll pick?"

He swayed a little on the spot. "Yeah, I think so." He shrugged and smiled a little. "So, you know, if you have any last minute bids or bribes you want to get it, now is the time."

"Oh, wait," she joked. "Is this the part where I offer to sleep with you? Sorry, I'm so bad at these things. Usually, I just earn things based on merit and skill."

He laughed again, but secretly his mind was running a little wild with the possibilities of that statement.

"Yeah, I don't think Russia's important enough for me to do all that," she said just as a passing Healer tapped her on the shoulder and beckoned for her to follow. She cast Ted one last quick smile. "I mean, sure, we could snog, but I've got standards to adhere to." She laughed once more before turning and following after the Healer.

Ted watched her go, his mind now in overdrive. He knew she had been kidding, he wasn't stupid, but it was more the fact that she had said it all. He was more than happy to let his mind wander on these thoughts all day, but Nate suddenly swatted him. Ted noticed it was now just the two of them standing there.

"Fine, I'll pick Joles," he said. "It's only fair. But hey, you think if I tell Agnes I did it because she told me to, that it would earn me any points with her?"


	14. A Drunken Meeting

A week later, as the rain came down in sheets in London, Ted found himself dashing across a busy street in an attempt to get from one side to the other without getting too wet. As he reached the other side, he found himself panting and out of breath as the water dripped off his hair and clothes. Running as fast as he could apparently hadn't helped matters much.

He pulled open the nearest door and walked inside. Still dripping, he glanced around the Leaky Cauldron and noticed that, surprisingly, Nate was sitting in the corner writing in a notebook. Ted was early for their meeting and had suspected he would have been the only one here. He certainly hadn't expected Nate of all people to be early.

Nate looked up as he approached. "Look at you," he said. "You're all wet."

"It's raining."

"You don't say."

Ted threw his things down and pulled out his wand. Casting a few drying charms on his clothes, his shoes, his bag, his hair, he watched as the water magically vanished into thin air. He ran a hand through his hair to check if it was dry before catching his reflection in a nearby cracked mirror. He changed his hair blue.

"Right, so—" Nate began before he stopped and stared at him. He seemed to be taking in all of the sudden changes Ted had just made to himself, but quickly returned to his original thought. "So, we need to make the meeting as short as possible."

Ted nodded. "Okay."

"Seriously, I'm in no mood to discuss dragon pox tonight, so let's get in and get out."

"Okay," he agreed.

"You want a drink? I'm getting one."

"Okay."

Nate stared at him. "Say something other than 'okay.'"

"Okay…?"

"What's gotten into you?"

Ted shook his head. "Nothing."

"You're so weird sometimes," Nate muttered before he shuffled off towards where the pub's landlady, the wife of Ted's former Herbology professor, Mrs. Longbottom, was tending to some customers. He didn't seem to be in a very good mood.

Ted ignored this given that he was actually in a very good mood. He was feeling energetic and even sort of excited. He began absently bouncing his leg and reading over the various documents Nate had left on the table; wondering when everyone else would get here.

It was the start of April, which as it looked was going to be an exceptionally busy month for him. He was turning nineteen, Easter holidays were just a couple of weeks away and that meant Victoire would be around, and then the trip to Russia wasn't far off. It was only in the last week that he had really started to crack down on his preparations in an attempt to focus on what was ahead of him. This trip was nowhere near as important as the one in December had been, but he still wanted to be ready. Being ready was precisely what this evening was about.

After picking the trainees to accompany them, Hazel had taken over the leadership role. She was the one instructing them on what they needed to do to be prepared, and informing them of what they should expect. Other than answering a few questions here and there, Ted hadn't really had much to do. Not that he minded since he was busy with other things, but Hazel had thought that tonight would be a good night to get everyone together at one time to make sure everyone was on the same page.

Nate had returned and placed a pint in front of Ted. "I hope this doesn't take long. It's my night off."

Ted nodded; though he actually wanted the meeting to take as long as necessary if it meant he could spend some time outside of work with Elizabeth.

"What time is it?" Nate asked.

Ted checked his watch. "Almost nine o'clock. People should start arriving soon enough."

Nate swigged his drink and took nearly half of it out in one swallow. He seemed preoccupied and fairly agitated. Ted thought better than to ask him what was wrong, seeing as he himself usually hated it when people pried into his life, but since it was just the two of them, it seemed awkward not to.

"You okay?"

Nate made a clicking noise with his tongue. "It's nothing…" he said absently. "I just got a letter from my dad today." He wasn't looking at Ted, but instead appeared to be simply thinking out loud. "Which is weird because we don't talk. I haven't even seen the bastard since I was eleven and yet out of nowhere…" He trailed off. "Anyway, I'm just…" He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "I don't know. I just don't feel like my head's here right now. It's probably why I got here an hour before I was supposed to and I've been drinking ever since." He picked up his glass and drained it.

"Oh…" Ted said quietly, unsure of what to really say. It was rare when Nate's usual overbearing nature cracked. Ted would have never pegged him as the kind of person who shared his more personal business with someone he wasn't particularly close with. He had actually thought they had that trait in common. "That's shit."

"Story of my life," Nate mumbled. "Comes into my life and tries to screw with everything..." He stopped. "Nevermind." He let out a small burp. "You get along with your folks?"

Ted pursed his lips and made a noncommittal noise.

"I bet you do," he said. "You got top marks, you stay out of trouble, and you work hard. Your parents probably brag about you to everyone."

"I never knew my parents," he said as he glanced towards an elderly couple sitting several tables over. "They died when I was a baby."

"Oh, shit. Sorry."

He shrugged.

"You mind if I ask how?"

Ted looked at him curiously. Usually people didn't push the issue once he brought it up. He assumed it was because he closed his body language off whenever the topic was mentioned and that tended to put people off from any further inquiry. Nate didn't seem to notice.

"Battle of Hogwarts."

"No shit?"

He nodded.

"Death Eaters?"

He nodded again.

"No shit…" He looked awestruck. "What a way to go."

Ted cocked his eyebrow at him.

"I didn't mean any disrespect," he said quickly. "It's just, I mean, that's an honorable way to die. Fighting for what you believe in and all that."

"Yeah, I like to think so."

"I'm a Muggleborn, so…" He shrugged. "I didn't grow up hearing all those stories about Harry Potter and Voldemort. I didn't hear anything about it until I went to Hogwarts."

Ted cracked a small smile at Harry's name. "I've heard a few stories here and there."

"So, what'd your parents do?"

"My mum was an Auror and my dad was…" He thought about how he should phrase that. "Well, he spent his time as an extreme supporter of the cause, you could say—" He stopped speaking when someone approached the table and pulled out a chair from beside him. It was one of the Trainee Healers named Darius Ebins, a thickset black man with a short, kept beard.

"'lo," he said with a nod.

"Hey," Ted and Nate said together, before Nate added to Ted. "That's insane."

"What are you two talking about?" asked Ebins as Ted glanced towards the door and noticed Orilis and Elizabeth walking in together. He immediately turned back around.

"Battle of Hogwarts stuff," said Nate.

Ebins made an amused noise as both Orilis and Elizabeth joined the group. Elizabeth smiled at everyone before sitting next to Nate while Orilis took the other seat next to Ted. "What a random topic of conversation," he said.

"What is?" Elizabeth asked.

"They're talking about the Battle of Hogwarts," Ebins said.

"Oh," she said as she looked instantly at Ted. "I'm sure you've heard some incredible tales of what happened that night straight from the source, huh?"

Ted made a hasty face, remembering that Elizabeth knew—having heard it around school—that Harry Potter was his godfather. What she didn't know was that this was yet another piece of information he didn't go around sharing with just anyone.

"You could say that," he said as he tried to somehow convey in his expression for her not to say anything else.

"Straight from what source?" asked Ebins.

"Since he's Harry Potter's godson," she said, completely oblivious to his silent pleas. Ted closed his eyes in a defeated manner and readied himself for what he knew was coming.

"You're fucking joking…" Nate said slowly.

He opened his eyes to see Nate gawking at him. Ebins and Orilis were starting at him curiously while Elizabeth looked confused. She seemed to now realize that she may have said something she shouldn't have.

"I didn't know it was a secret," she said slowly.

"What the hell, Lupin!?" said Nate with laughter in his tone. "This is the second huge secret about you to leak out! First you're a Metamorphmagus and now this!? What else you got? Are you half troll? You got an uncle who's a werewolf?"

Ted pursed his lips again and hid a small smile. Not an uncle.

"Ted, I really didn't know…" Elizabeth began apologetically, just as Brina joined the group and loudly said hello before looking around for a place to sit.

"No big deal," he said with a shrug. Nate was still staring at him with extreme amusement and Ebins and Orilis had started discussing the pros and cons of what it would be like to be related to celebrity, they kept looking at Ted for confirmation on various questions, but Ted continued to say how it really wasn't that big a deal). This continued all up until Hazel walked in, still dressed in her lab clothes and looking as if she'd come straight from the hospital.

"Sorry, I'm late," she said. "We had some things happen at the last minute and I got held up trying to…" She shook her head. "Nevermind."

"Hazel, I have a riddle for you," Nate said as he slid over for her to sit. "Which one of us," he gestured around the table, "is close and personally connected to Harry Potter?"

She stared at him questioningly. "Did you meet him today and you want to brag?"

"I'm dead serious," he said. "Someone here has known him their entire life. He's his godson."

"Well, that rules out the girls," she said in a tone that still seemed to think Nate was screwing with her. "And I know it's not you."

"It's not me," Orilis said.

"Ebins?" she asked.

"Try again," Nate said as he smiled at Ted. In turn, Ted sighed and couldn't help but remember how urgently Nate had wanted to leave just a few minutes earlier, yet here he was now dawdling with the best of them.

She stared at Ted. "You are not."

"The kid is full of secrets," Nate said. "I bet you Ted isn't even his real name!"

"You are full of secrets," Hazel said as she started pulling out rolls and rolls of parchment. "But this one isn't relevant like the Metamorphmagus one was, so I can see why he would have told anyone."

"You can see…?" Nate asked. "It's 'The Harry Potter.'"

"So, ask Ted to get you his autograph," she said dismissively as she started passing various documents around the table. Ted smiled. In that moment, he had never been happier to have Hazel around. "Shall we get started…?"

As it turned out, Nate's wish of a short meeting never made it to fruition. In fact, things ended up stretching out longer than even Ted could have anticipated what with Brina seeming to ask more questions than were possibly conceivable. After an hour, Ted noticed that even Hazel seemed to be growing tired of the endless questions from her; only a quarter of which even seemed relevant. If Hazel was starting to tire of things, Ted knew he wasn't crazy.

Although the evening wasn't completely dull. After a half an hour in, Nate, who had been fairly buzzed on alcohol since the start of the meeting, was no longer even attempting to hide his displeasure in the fact that he was spending his night here rather than elsewhere. It had started with him making faces that only Ted, Orilis, and Ebins could see since they happened to be sitting across the table from him. He was trying to see who he could make laugh.

At an hour in, Ebins had claimed he needed a break. He and Nate disappeared off to the bar for ten minutes and, upon returning, they seemed to have secretly devised a drinking game in which they drank every time Brina said certain phrases. At an hour and fifteen minutes in, the two had gone through two pints and were starting their third. The second Brina had excused herself to use the loo, Nate let out a low whistle.

"If she keeps this up, I'm going to be smashed," Ebins said.

"I think I am already," Nate said through squinted eyes.

Hazel flicked Nate in the side of the head. "I know you know all of this stuff already, but you could pretend to be listening."

"I listened for a half hour," he said. "After a half hour, we'd said everything they needed to know. She just keeps going!"

"You should see her in lectures with Pullman," Orilis mumbled. "She could go for days."

"She enjoys being well informed." Hazel shrugged. "I can't fault her for that."

"Neither can I," said Nate. "In fact…" He picked up his glass. "I'll drink to it!"

"All right, how do you play?" Ted asked as he decided he wanted in on their game. Hazel threw him a disapproving look, but he ignored it.

Ebins held up his finger as he was counting off on them. "Drink if she brings up something completely irrelevant. Drink if she says, 'But isn't that…' and then gives some random counter example."

"She does do that a lot," Hazel mumbled.

"Drink if she asks someone to slow down so she can write something down, or if she asks someone to repeat what they said," Nate said, his speech slurred.

"Yeah, that," Ebins agreed. "And there was one more…Oh, right, if she says, 'Healer Pullman said,' or 'She told us…' that sort of thing, then you drink as well."

"Well, that last one definitely explains how you went through two pints so quickly," said Elizabeth.

"So, those are the rules," Nate said. "Whoever's playing must adhere to them."

"I'm playing," Ted said before Brina returned a minute later. Everyone at the table was now watching her expectantly.

"Anyway…" Hazel said as Brina indicated that she had a few more issues she'd like to discuss. Over the next forty-five minutes, Ted went through three pints and Nate looked as if he was now having a problem keeping his head up at this point. He kept lazily leaning from side to side between Hazel and Elizabeth, both of whom kept pushing him back in the other direction. In the end, Orilis had come up with a valid question that silenced Brina for a good ten minutes. Ted thought Nate should have been thankful for that. He didn't look as though he could handle much more.

"I think that was really informative," Brina said once everything was done and everyone began gathering their things to leave.

"I think I'm going to pass out," Nate said as he put his head down on the table.

"Yes," Hazel said as she patted him on the head. "You should probably stop drinking. Tell you what? I'll sit with you while you sober up a bit. You're not Apparating home like this."

"I'll stay, too," Ebins said as he sat back down. "I've got nowhere to be. I've actually got the day off tomorrow."

"I don't have to be in until late tomorrow," Elizabeth said brightly and looking slightly buzzed. "If you guys are staying, I'll stay."

Ted had reached for his bag to leave, but suddenly hesitated. "You know, I think I should probably sober up a little, too. I don't want to risk Apparating to the wrong place."

"If you have any doubt, you definitely should," Hazel said matter-of-factly.

"Yeah," Ted said. "I mean, better safe than sorry." He nodded and sat back down. He didn't feel the need to mention that he lived within walking distance just down Diagon Alley.

Orilis smiled. "I have to go since some of us have families, but you kids have fun. Drink one for me."

"Will do, O," Nate mumbled as he raised his hand to wave, nearly whacking Hazel in the face as he did.

Brina sat back down as well, but didn't feel the need to announce it. She just shrugged. "I think I'll have a drink, then. I rarely get the chance, what with studying all the time."

"You should," Ebins said with a good-natured nod of his head. "It'll lighten you up. In fact, I'll go up there and get one with you."

Nate was sitting up now and looking more alert than he had in moments before. He turned from Hazel, who was sipping her drink, to Elizabeth, who was staring right back at him. "Did I miss something? Where'd everyone go?"

"Oh, Nathaniel…" Hazel said heavily as she shook her head.

"You know," Elizabeth said as Ted noticed her cheeks were flushing pinker and pinker the more and more she drank. "I think this is nicest I've ever seen you two be together. Usually you're always fighting."

"We have our moments," said Hazel.

"They used to date," Ted said. "When I heard that, suddenly everything made a lot more sense."

"That does make a lot of sense," Elizabeth said. Both Nate and Hazel made almost identical expressions that seemed to say they clearly didn't want to be reminded of this fact. "Why did you split up?"

"He cheated on me," said Hazel.

He glared at her. "I did not. We weren't together then!"

"So you say," she said before shaking her head. "But we're not doing this here." She turned to Elizabeth. "It's actually the longest story ever told. It's not worth hearing."

Elizabeth nodded before shooting Ted an amused look from across the table. He smiled and thought about moving over and filling the two chairs that were between them before the others returned to claim them again, but he wondered if that was too obvious a gesture to make with both Nate and Hazel sitting right there. Then again, why did he care about what they thought?

"So, Ted, you know Harry Potter?" Hazel asked.

"What's he like?" Nate asked.

Ted made a face. "I don't know. He's normal."

"He's not normal," Nate said. "He's Harry fucking Potter."

"I just call him Harry, actually."

"Can I meet him?" Nate asked.

Ted pretended he hadn't heard him since Elizabeth had just asked. "I've always wanted to know something. How did that work out? Him being your godfather and all?"

If Nate had asked that question, Ted would have given him a breezy answer about how his parents had been friends with Harry and left it at that. But since it was Elizabeth who had asked…

"My dad and his dad were mates at school," he began. "Really good friends. So after Harry's dad and mum died and…well, you all know the story. Anyway, when Harry was older, he and my dad reconnected. As he tells me, my dad was there for him and helped him, and they became friends. When I came along, my dad asked him to be my godfather and…" He shrugged. "Here we are."

"So, you must know all of them, then?" Hazel asked. "His whole gang of friends? Weasley, Granger…"

Ted nodded. "My whole life. Yeah."

"You're far more interesting than you lead people to believe," Nate said blankly. "You know that?"

Unsure of how he should take that, Ted forced a tepid smile. "Thanks?"

"Wait," Elizabeth said. "You must know Victoire Weasley, right?"

He nodded.

"And she's related to Ron Weasley how?"

"She's his niece."

"And she's Harry Potter's niece, too?"

He nodded again.

"I thought I'd heard that somewhere," she said. "Probably from Dave…Oh wait!" She looked at him as if she'd had a realization dawn on her. "I remember you mentioned you knew her because you were the one who told Dave something about her allergy after he'd been an idiot and made her ill. In Potions class. You probably don't even remember that."

Ted laughed. He actually did remember, but admitting it seemed rather un-cool.

"What's so funny?" Ebins asked as he and Brina returned to take their seats.

"Nothing," Elizabeth said as she waved her hand dismissively. "So, wait, you two don't talk anymore? I seem to remember you saying something like that."

"Victoire and me?" he asked. "No, well, see the thing is—"

"Hold on," she said as she suddenly stood. Ebins and Nate had started loudly singing a random popular wizard rock song that Ted was sure they were mixing up the words to, but they didn't seem to care. Elizabeth suddenly walked around the noise and plopped herself down in the chair that Orilis had vacated. "Sorry, I couldn't hear you over those two."

He backtracked and tried to remember what he'd just been saying. "Oh, so Victoire and I, we talk now. At the time we didn't, but, long story short, we worked things out."

"So, you're friends?"

"Yeah. Good friends, actually."

"Do you talk a lot?"

He shrugged and found himself slightly curious as to why she was suddenly so interested in his relationship with Victoire. "Not a lot since she's at school, but we do when we can. Why?"

Elizabeth nodded and looked off to the side, her expression pensive. "I'm just curious about something."

"What?"

She smiled a little as she sipped her drink. "The thing is, it's as if everyone I know at Hogwarts feels the need to fill me on the happenings going on at school, you know? I can't escape it." She lowered her glass. "Particularly if it involves Stuart."

"Ohhh…" Ted said as he suddenly realized what she was alluding to.

"That 'ohhh' sounds like you've heard something, too."

He shook his head a little too quickly. He wasn't one to gossip, and even if he was, he didn't want to say something he wasn't supposed to, especially if it involved Victoire.

She took another sip of her drink. "She hasn't mentioned anything to you about…" She stopped and stared at him. She seemed to be studying his face.

"We don't really talk about that sort of thing."

"Really?"

"Hey," Ebins said. "Either of you want something to drink? I'm going back up."

Elizabeth gawked at him. "You drink like a fish. This is like you are sixth or seventh."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

She turned to Ted and their eyes connected in a way that made his chest feel heavy. "Are you leaving anytime soon?" she asked.

His head shook before he even knew what he was doing. "I can stay."

She drained the drink she was currently drinking and looked back at Ebins. "I would then, please." Ted stared at her feeling slightly impressed. She sure could drink.

"So, wait," she continued once Ebins was gone. "Victoire really hasn't mentioned anything to you about Stuart?"

"Should she have?" he asked, feigning dumb.

"I've just heard from, well everyone, that they're sort of…" She scrunched up her face and seemed to be searching for the words. "I don't even know. Not dating, but they're close to it. They apparently went to Hogsmeade together and I guess they were snogging on her birthday—"

"What?!" The reaction had shot out of him almost involuntarily. Victoire had definitely not mentioned that in any of her letters. He suddenly couldn't understand why her letters were so full of confusion about Stuart if they were already kissing months before. Wasn't that a pretty fair indicator of how things were going?

"That's just what I've heard," she said. "And to be completely honest, I don't care. I like Victoire. I always thought she was a nice girl. It's just more…" She paused. "You know she and Dave Thorpe dated?"

He nodded.

"Well, Dave and Stu are friends, and Dave's heard all the same things I have. He asked Stu about it, and Stu's denying it. He's denying everything. This is odd because literally everyone else is saying the opposite. So…" She looked him in the eyes. Her face softened. "I just thought maybe you'd heard something, because it's really aggravating Dave. The way he sees it, it's one thing to go after your mate's ex, but then it's another to lie about it."

The way she was currently looking at him, in a way that could easily ruin a man if they let it because it was just that tempting, made him want to say everything he knew. That yes, Victoire had mentioned Stuart before; and that she fancied him and that he had asked her out to Hogsmeade; and that everything seemed to indicate that they would probably soon be dating. All he had to do was open his mouth and the words would come out. He knew they would. But at the same time, a stronger urge was telling him to keep his mouth shut.

He wasn't even sure if saying something could hurt Victoire since it seemed as if Stuart was the one lying and being an all around wanker, but the fact that it possibly could wasn't a risk he wanted to take. He didn't want to somehow be responsible for getting her into trouble.

"I don't know," he finally said as he looked away from her. "She's honestly never mentioned it."

Elizabeth nodded and slowly smiled. "Well, if for some reason she does, would you let me know? I'd really like to know if Stu is being a complete prat about this."

"Absolutely," he said as he now contemplated whether or not he should say something to Victoire. At the same time, Ebins had returned with drinks and the declaration that he had a story that everyone needed to listen to, so Ted forced himself to put the thought out of his mind. After all, Victoire wasn't dumb. Plus, he had other matters at hand to concentrate on, like the fact that the opportunity to get closer to Elizabeth was currently staring him in the face.

It was turning into a good night. With the exception of their trip to Russia, Ted had never hung out socially with either Hazel or Nate, and over the course of the evening learned that Nate was actually a hilarious drunk; far funnier than he was on any normal day. Hazel, too, was actually much more enjoyable to be around when one removed the work factor. She was surprisingly knowledgeable about things Ted would have never pegged her to know—Quidditch and popular wizard bands for example.

Ebins was the life of the party and talked to everyone within earshot, while even Brina was slightly less annoying than normal. Elizabeth appeared to laugh a lot more when drinking. The more she drank, the more she laughed. It was as if everything was suddenly very funny. Not that Ted minded since it actually made him feel as if he was particularly funny.

After Ted had several more drinks—he'd lost count of exactly how many—he felt his face and noticed it had a numb quality about it. This was his personal indicator that he was getting smashed, if he wasn't already. Ever since the first time he had a drink with Simon in his back garden, Ted knew that this was the sign that he was officially drunk. If he had anything more, he'd be a complete mess. Just like the night he and Celia had split up. But at this point he was happy. He was content and even a little smiley. He wasn't a loud drunk like Nate and Ebins were, but rather relaxed and lethargic. He liked to observe.

"I have to work at noon," said Hazel as she stood. "I need to go." She poked Nate. "Don't you have to be there at nine?"

"Probably," he said, though he was only half paying attention. He and Ebins had started to chat up a pair of older women at the table next to them.

"I have a feeling tomorrow is going to be a looooong day," Hazel mumbled as she glanced at Ted. "You had better be there at six o'clock on the dot so I can take a break, or else I'll hex you."

There was the more familiar Hazel that he knew.

"Hey," Elizabeth said as she turned to him. "By the way, I'm really sorry about earlier. The whole Harry Potter thing. I really didn't know."

"It's no big deal," he said as he started rubbing his eyes to the point that starbursts of light were exploding in front of him. "You couldn't have known."

"Still, I'm really sorry."

He shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Honestly."

She smiled at him and he suddenly felt the urge to say something charming or witty. He felt like he should listen to all the advice that Simon had given him, which everyone had given him, over the years and just take the risk. Without risk, there was no reward, right? The worst thing that could happen was that she laughed in his face. Actually, the more he thought about that happening, the less inclined he felt.

"Something wrong?" she asked after a moment. He hadn't realized that he'd been staring through her for the last several seconds.

"I'm just drinking—uh, I mean thinking."

She laughed. "I think you were right the first time."

"I can't drink anymore," he said as he closed and opened his eyes very slowly before settling his gaze on her. "You haven't had much less than me. How come you're not more smashed?"

"Who says I'm not?" she asked with a goofy sort smile that suddenly made him reconsider his claim that she wasn't utterly and completely smashed.

"Well, you hold your alcohol better than I do, then," he said. "Don't tell anyone I said that, though."

She was still smiling. "I'm just better at masking the fact."

"Like how you're good at masking the fact that you're secretly bitchy?"

"No…" she said. "It's more like how you're good at masking the fact that you're really not a nice guy."

"But I am a nice guy. I don't know where you got it in your head that I wasn't."

"You keep telling yourself that," she said as she patted him on the leg. Even though it had been a passing sort of gesture, it suddenly made Ted feel much bolder.

"I was the one who picked you," he said suddenly. "For Russia. I know you probably know that, but…" He wasn't sure where he was going with this. "Yeah."

"I figured as much," she said as she lowered her voice. "Joles seems to bother you, and I know Hazel picked Darius. And everyone knew Orilis was getting picked."

"Joles doesn't bug me," he whispered.

She looked at him doubtfully.

"Perhaps a little."

"I appreciate it either way," she said before hiccuping.

He grinned. "Well, let's be honest. The only reason I did was because you said you would snog me," he joked. "And Joles never did get around offering to sleep with me, so you were clearly the obvious choice."

She laughed. "Clearly."

"Don't think I won't collect," he said, still mostly joking and hoping it was coming off as funny and a little charming.

"You name the time and the place," she said, playing along. She suddenly pushed her drink away from her as if she'd had enough.

"My birthday's coming up," he said as he decided to see how far he could take this. "Maybe then?"

"I'll schedule you in."

"Fantastic." He smiled and looked away. "I'll be there."

"You're so smashed."

"You're one to talk."

"No, but you really are," she said.

"How do you know?"

"Because," she said with an affirmative nod.

"Because…?"

"Because I couldn't see you saying any of this about wanting to collect if you were sober."

He knew the alcohol was giving him a false sense of boldness, but he decided to run with it. "Maybe I would."

"Would you?" She was smiling curiously. "I mean, I'd think if you really wanted to kiss me you would have done it already."

He was taken completely off guard by this. He averted his eyes to where Nate was doing a funny sort of dance step to the laughter of several onlookers. Everyone seemed to be preoccupied with watching him. "You don't know that."

"What would you be waiting for?" she asked and he chanced another look at her. Her eyes were glassy and her cheeks were red now, but not in an unattractive way. What really stood out was that she seemed so collected, as if this conversation was as simple as talking about the weather.

He knew in that instance that he could kiss her. He should kiss her. She wasn't talking about it as if she was disgusted by the idea, but seemed mildly curious as though she'd been thinking about it, too. He could be mistaken, but it almost seemed as if she expected it. He needed to just do it. He started to lean his head in ever so slowly; giving her ample time to back up if for some reason this advance was not welcomed. She didn't budge.

"Hey Elizabeth," called Ebins suddenly. "What was the name of that disease that one guy had? The one with the giant head. This lady doesn't believe me."

Ted stopped and immediately leaned back in his chair just as Elizabeth turned and stared at Ebins.

He knew in that moment he'd lost his nerve. The moment was gone, just like that. He'd been so sure he was going to go through with it, but even then he couldn't completely convince himself that he wouldn't have chickened out at the last second. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, silently scolding himself for being such an idiot.

"I don't remember," he heard Elizabeth say and he lowered his head again. The second they made eye contact, she smiled awkwardly. Things were suddenly awkward and nothing had even happened. He was probably the only person in the world who had the ability to do that.

"I think I'm going to go," he said.

She nodded. "It is getting late."

Neither of them moved until Ted finally stood. It seemed like days ago that they'd been talking of dragon pox and Brina's annoying habits. His head was starting to hurt and all he wanted to do now was sleep.

"I'll see you all later," he called out as he tried to get Nate and the others attention. They weren't looking, so he smiled once more at Elizabeth before walking towards the alleyway that led to Diagon Alley. As he placed his wand to the wall in order to uncover the hidden entrance way, he mumbled, "Stupid, stupid, stupid…" for every brick he tapped. The wall had begun separating in front of him to reveal the closed shops of Diagon Alley just as someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"You forgot your bag," said Elizabeth as he turned and saw her standing there holding it out to him. "You'll probably need it."

He took it and was surprised to not only see her standing there, but also by the fact that he'd actually left his bag. He never forgot his bag. "I can't believe I almost…Everything for work is in there…" He shook his head. "I'm an idiot."

"You sure are."

"Thanks," he said as he slung his bag over his shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow? You work, right?"

"Ted."

He stared at her.

"This might be the alcohol talking," she said. "In fact, it most probably is, but…to hell with it." She stepped forward and kissed him. At first, he wasn't even sure what was happening, what with it having come at him so quickly and awkwardly, but once it clicked, he found him completely involved. He dropped, or more or less threw his bag on the ground and pulled her closer.

It was a powerful kiss as opposed to something delicate and romantic. It was the sort of kissing people did when they were smashed, uninhibited, and could care less about whatever the hell was happening around them. It was messy, it was hot, it reminded him of sex and frankly, he didn't want it to end.


	15. The Day After

It was six o'clock on the dot the following day when Ted wandered into work. His memories of the night before were scattered, but for whatever reason Hazel's threat of hexing him for being late had resonated clear as day.

Hazel and Nate were crowded around the same table in the corner of the room with stacks of patient forms in front of them. There were eight cauldrons currently set up on the cook station and all of them had heat billowing from their tops. In his year he'd spent here, Ted had never seen all eight working at once. Neither Hazel nor Nate even looked up at him as he entered.

"What's going on?" he asked once he approached them.

"It's been absolutely mad here today, that's what," Hazel said as she signed off on three forms in the course of the five seconds before jotting something down on another. "Shit, I have to stir the…" She didn't finish her sentence and instead just darted over to the cook station. She sounded annoyed.

"If it could go wrong," Nate said as he grabbed a stack of papers and shuffled through them. "It went wrong."

"What happened?"

"Outbreak of Bat Rash Fever," he said. "Three dragon pox admittance, a werewolf bite, two spattergroit, four burn victims, and we don't even know what the hell the cause was because they're so burnt they can't talk. Not to mention that some klutz knocked over an entire cupboard of potions and remedies on floor two and therefore depleted their stock down to practically nothing."

"What do you need me to do?" Ted asked.

"Everything's calmed down, now," Nate mumbled. "You missed the madness."

"No," Hazel said as she stepped back from one of the cauldrons. "You can come and stir this clockwise for the next fifteen minutes while I go upstairs and jump off the roof."

"Oh, no…" Nate said to her while Ted walked over to relieve her. "You're not getting off that easy."

"Fine, then I'm on break until I feel like coming back." She abruptly turned to leave. "And don't screw that up, Ted. It's important. Just keep stirring."

Ted tried to ignore how naggy and bossy she sounded and rolled up his sleeves to stir. For something that she claimed to be so important, she hadn't even mentioned what it was.

"I love how she decides she gets the break even though I've been here longer," Nate muttered. "She's on a roll today, let me tell you. You'd be wise to stay out of her way." He tossed several folders to the side. "You are so fortunate you didn't have to be here today. I wasn't in top shape to begin with since I got so piss drunk last night, so of course I walk in and Linus is pulling his hair out and I'm hungover…" He shook his head. "The day from hell. Not to mention Hazel being ever so charming."

"Sounds miserable," Ted said as he continued to stare into the cauldron he was stirring. He was attempting to decipher what was inside of it.

"How'd you fare last night?"

Ted looked up sharply. For a moment, he suspected that Nate was alluding to what had happened between him and Elizabeth, but his tone seemed more casual than it would have been if he was trying to imply that he knew or saw something. If Nate had suspected that something had happened, he would have pushed harder for details.

"Were you hungover?" Nate added.

"Oh," Ted said as he realized what Nate was actually getting at. "Yeah, I guess. I just made the Pepper-Up remedy this morning and I was fine."

"I made it, too, when I got here, but it didn't take effect fast enough," he said. "Hazel says I was in a right state last night."

Ted smirked. "That you were. You're a pretty funny drunk."

"Everyone always says that." He turned around in his chair and stared at Ted. "I don't remember seeing you leave."

He shrugged. "I don't remember what time I left."

"In the end it was just Ebins in me," he said. "I don't know when the girls left either. I just turned around and everyone was gone."

Ted made a noncommittal noise as he stirred the cauldron. Of course, Ted had no idea what had happened to Brina or when she had left, but he knew exactly when Elizabeth had because it had been the same time he had. He wasn't about to share the details of that, though.

It had been a strange realization that morning once Ted had awoken to remember what had happened the night before. His memories were scattered and fuzzy, but there were pockets of time and specific instances that were crystal clear. He could remember he and Elizabeth snogging for what seemed like hours right there at the entrance to Diagon Alley and he could remember them both ending up back at his place at some point after that, but from there things were confusing and he couldn't keep them straight. He was kicking himself for having got so drunk that he couldn't remember the finer details, but at the same time, he didn't think he would have ever had the balls to go through with anything had he not been. It was a double edged sword.

What he did know though, was that when he'd woken up this morning and gone about his usual morning routine, it had taken him the entire walk from his bed to the toilet to even remember Elizabeth had been there last night. She was already gone and he didn't have the faintest clue as to when she had left. He'd found a scribbled note on a table in his living room saying something along the lines of, "See you at work," but that had been it. He'd spent the rest of his morning nursing a headache and attempting to put the pieces together.

Confusion was the only clear emotion he had about last night. Confusion mixed with bouts of satisfaction, flashes of uncertainty, inklings of excitement, and some remnants of trepidation. What was now supposed to happen now? What was he supposed to say to her the next time he saw her? Having spent the entirety of the day wondering what to do next only made things more confusing. At this point, he didn't want to bother thinking about it anymore.

"Hey, Lupin," Nate said, cutting into Ted's thoughts. "Would you hand me that book by the window?"

Ted glanced over his shoulder to where Nate had indicated before doing as he had asked. He lobbed the book to him across the room before returning to stirring.

"Oh, hey," Nate said before turning toward him. "That whole you and Harry Potter thing? I didn't imagine that, did I?"

"No, that was real."

"I thought so," he said, turning back around. "I didn't think I was that drunk—"

He stopped when the door opened and Hazel walked back in carrying coffee in one hand and a plate of food in the other.

"That was the shortest break ever," he said.

"I'm not done," she said, walking over to her desk. "In fact, don't ask me any work related questions until I say so."

"Yes, ma'am," Nate said as he threw her a salute.

"And," she added as she began eating. "Ted, you're going to do evening rounds downstairs."

"Am I?" he asked.

"I'm not doing it," she said. "And you always volunteer to do rounds anyway, so why do you care?"

He didn't say anything right away. The truth was that he did usually volunteer if the choice arose, but that was usually because he enjoyed the excuse of walking downstairs and talking with Elizabeth if she was there. At the moment though, he didn't really feel like doing that.

"I'm just not in the mood today," he said.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said swinging around in her chair and using the aggravated tone that was usually reserved for Nate. "I've forgotten how swamped you were today with an endless amount of work and problems that never seemed to end. It's not as if you spent your morning sitting around ailing your hangover in your comfy bed." She stopped and made a patronizing expression.

Ted's eyes grew a little wide as he glanced at Nate. He currently had his back to the both of them and seemed as though he was pretending that he couldn't hear anything.

"You're not in the mood," she mumbled to herself. "Give me a break."

"Okay, I get it," Ted said, putting down the ladle he was using. "Fine, I'm going. Merlin's beard..."

"You can't stop stirring that," Hazel snapped as he took a few steps away. "Don't be stupid. It's got another five minutes."

He clenched his jaw before stopping in his tracks. Don't be stupid? He didn't even know what the hell it was, how could he be stupid? Hazel was obviously having a bad day, but he wasn't exactly having a cakewalk of a day either, what with being utterly confused. He turned and focused on her, his expression hard and his tone sharp. "What the hell do you want me to do?"

She stared at him. She seemed surprised and even amused at his reaction.

"You want me to go downstairs or you want me to stir, Hazel? Which is it?"

"I thought you'd finish one and then do the other," she said. "It's not a difficult concept."

"So, why don't you say that?" he asked. "Asking isn't exactly a difficult concept, either."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not in the mood for you to get technical, Ted."

"And I'm not in the mood to deal with you being miserable," he said as Nate finally turned around to watch. "No offense, but I work with you, not for you. I know you're having a shitty day, but you don't need to make mine shitty, too."

She scrunched up her face in an irritated way. "What's gotten into you?"

"Ted, just go," Nate said wearily from his desk. "I'll stir. In fact, take your time downstairs."

Ted didn't move right away, but instead let his stare linger on Hazel for a minute longer. As he turned and walked over to where the ward robes hung, he could hear Hazel mumbling something that made Nate respond with, "Drop it." He couldn't hear what was said, but it was probably better this way. He was now feeling confrontational and the idea of having it out with Hazel sounded quite cathartic. He could hear her beginning to set in on Nate, but chose to ignore it all. He grabbed everything he needed and walked out the door.

His accelerated heartbeat that had resulted from his anger began to slowly calm as he walked down the corridor towards the lifts, though, his poor mood only seemed to intensify. Given all the commotion, he hadn't really stopped to comprehend what he was now walking into. Elizabeth would probably be down there and he'd probably have to see her. He'd have to talk to her and a part of him didn't feel like doing that. A part of him wished he could somehow ignore this and just go about as they had before, pretending like nothing had happened.

This in itself was a surprising thought since he figured that after spending the night as they had, he would be more excited to see her. He thought he would have been enthralled by the prospect of this opportunity opening between the two of them; instead, a feeling of dread rested at the pit of his stomach the more he thought about it. Something didn't seem right.

He stepped off the lift onto the second floor and kept his head down. Clutching the patient folders in his hand, he started walking towards the furthest room on the corridor where the first of the patients were. He had four people to check up on and then he could go back upstairs. All he had to do was make sure that they were responding to some of the experimental treatments and he was done. In and out. Maybe he wouldn't even run into her.

"Hi, Ted," said Agnes as he walked past the nurses' station. He glanced at her quickly and noticed she looked like a wreck. Given her appearance, she had likely had a hectic day similar to Nate and Hazel's. "You're lucky you missed out the morning."

"I heard." He smiled politely, but kept walking. He reached the end of the hall where he ducked into the last room and found a dragon pox inflicted twenty-something-year-old witch lying asleep in bed. He quickly checked the Healers' charts and notes before examining the look of her. She had been admitted early, so the chances of experimental treatment working had been in her favor. She looked nearly healed.

He filed away his notes and pulled out the next patient's paperwork. In the bed just across the room was an elderly witch who had also been brought in with early symptoms of pox. She was also asleep as Ted jotted down all the information he could and saw that she wasn't responding as quickly as the younger woman was to treatment. He made a note of this as he filed the notes away in his folder. Checking his watch he noticed that it had only taken him all of four minutes to do both patients. At this rate, he could break his own record.

He stepped back in the hall and saw most of the disheveled looking staff members—various Healers, mediwizards, and nurses—were packing up for the day and seemingly happier for it. A new set of fresh faced, ready for the work ahead of them Healers were signing in and ready to begin their shifts. A quick sweep of the hall didn't reveal Elizabeth among them.

He made his way down the hall where he checked in on a man with spattergroit who looked absolutely miserable and started grunting some sort of message to Ted upon his entrance to the room. Ted forced a sympathetic smile, but didn't say anything as he checked over the notes and scribbled some things down. He sometimes wished he had a better bedside manner with patients, but he never really knew what to say to alleviate people who were in pain or dying. It was one of the many reasons he had never considered becoming a Healer.

"I think he wants to sleep," said a voice from the entrance way. It was Elizabeth. She had eyes focused on the man in front of her. "Do you want a Sleeping Draught, Mr. Wills?"

He grunted.

Ted noticed that she already had the Sleeping Draught in her hand and assumed it wasn't so much a matter of what Mr. Wills wanted, rather she had been instructed to administer it to him. She approached to assist the man in drinking just as Ted made a casual movement towards the door. It wasn't so much as he was trying to avoid talking to her—or so he told himself—he just figured he could put it off for at least a few more minutes while he made the excuse of checking on other patients.

"Hey, hold on," she said without looking at him. She was concentrating on getting the liquid into Mr. Wills's mouth, but her tone had been light and friendly.

He hesitated and waited for her to finish. He literally had no idea what to say given that he couldn't read her in the slightest. Mr. Wills grunted a few more times before the noises disappeared and it became clear that he had drifted off to sleep. Elizabeth pulled out her wand and started doing some random charms and enchantments before pocketing her wand and turning towards Ted.

"Hey," she said in a casual, but slightly awkward way. "I figured we should probably talk."

He looked around. "You want to talk right now?"

She shrugged. "Better than sitting on things, I think."

His eyes flickered towards Wills in his bed. Elizabeth looked, too.

"He's out cold if you're worried about him." She smiled before twisting her mouth into a more pensive expression. "Anyway, about what happened yesterday…Well first of all, I think it's safe to say we were both pretty smashed."

Ted nodded, but he wasn't looking at her. He was looking just off to the side of her so as to avoid her eyes.

"And I usually don't do stuff like that," she added coolly. "Then again, I also don't get really smashed often either, so there's a first for everything." She laughed a little.

"Yeah, I don't either."

"But," she continued, sounding very businesslike. "What happened, happened and we can't change things."

Ted looked at her for the first time and against his better judgment. He knew he looked confused at this. Did she wish she could change things?

"I just really don't want things to be weird between us," she said heavily. "Obviously what happened last night was sort of us both just getting caught up in the moment and acting on it. It's not as if it would have happened otherwise…"

This time he knew his expression was telling. He stared at her curiously and she seemed to catch this in his expression and backtracked. "Oh, I didn't mean to sound like—" She shook her head. "No, I mean, nothing against you, it's just, well, we don't see each other like that." She trailed off. "Right?"

He shrugged. "I'll be honest with you. I would have to a bit for anything to have happened last night."

"Yeah, well, a little," she agreed. "Right. Me too. Sure. We wouldn't be friends if…" She shook her head and sighed. "I think you're fantastic. You're probably my closest friend in this place and half the reason I can bear to get through these days here, but I have to be honest with you. I sort of have feelings for," she hesitated, "someone else."

He stared at her, his expression vacant and unreadable. He'd be a liar if the news didn't feel like someone had just punched him in the groin, but he wasn't as upset as he would have thought. For some reason, the news didn't surprise him much. It was as though he'd expected something like this all along; as if coming in second to someone else was always part of the plan. It felt as though last night was a small taste before someone slapped him on the back and essentially told him, "Nice effort son, but sorry. Maybe next time."

"I've only just realized how I felt," she continued, her voice sounding distant to Ted. "I'd been denying it for months, but…" She looked away. "Last night was actually a bit of a wake up call that made me realize…." She hung her head a little. "Trust me, I felt pretty shitty about it this morning, which is why I left without saying anything. I'm sorry about that." She sighed again. "And now I feel like an arse."

"Don't," he muttered without looking at her. He was fairly surprised at how collected he sounded, especially since he felt like he'd been sucker punched. "You can't help how you feel. Last night was just a…" He forced a smile. "Random sort of occurrence."

She smiled as well, looking rather relieved. "Yeah."

"For what's it's worth," he said as he shifted the weight on his feet. "It was fun. The parts I remember at least. I had fun."

She blushed and looked away. It was the first time Ted could actually remember making her blush. "I still can't believe we got that pissed."

He definitely agreed with that.

"So, we're okay?" she asked earnestly. "Because honestly, if things are awkward between us, tell me now."

He nodded his head and forced another smile. He'd get over it.

"I was really afraid things would be weird," she said. "The last thing I needed was for things to become even madder around here and to find that one of the few people that does make this place tolerable doesn't want to talk to me."

"Yeah." He continued forcing a smile, even though he was already tired of doing it. "It's not worth getting weird about."

"I agree," she said.

He was ready for the conversation to be over with so he could stop pretending not to care. "I should finish my rounds."

She nodded. "I'll see you later, then."

"Yep."

She dawdled for a minute and looked as if she was going to say something else, but turned and left instead. Ted exhaled heavily as she disappeared. That was that, then. All settled. It was for the better, though. It had to be. Granted he felt shitty now, but that would pass. He'd move on. Maybe if he stopped trying to look for girls to have relationships with and instead just messed about with random ones things would be easier. The idea didn't sound half bad right now, actually. Elizabeth could be the first of many. He could look at it that way. Perhaps Simon was onto something with his, "You don't have to be with someone to be with someone" logic after all.


	16. Similarities

"Her face was priceless," Simon said as he and Ted walked down a busy street several days after the Elizabeth encounter had occurred. "You looked like a girl, though."

"You know how long it's been since I've done a switch like that on someone?" Ted asked as he ran his hand through his now normal looking hair and straightened it out.

It had been Simon's idea of course, as it generally was. The two had met only minutes earlier to pick up food from one of their favorite greasy haunts, and as they stood there waiting for it to be ready, Simon had encouraged Ted to change his appearance whenever the clerk happened to turn her back on them. When he was greeted as if he was a new customer, he would just claim he'd been there all along, which Simon would agree with. It was something they hadn't done since the summer between their sixth and seventh year.

This is what they'd done tonight to an older Muggle woman. One minute Ted had been himself and the next, he'd grown his hair down to his waist in a tomato red color. They hadn't had time for much more since their food was quick (their record was seven transformations on a single person), but one change seemed to be all it took. The woman had simply looked at them thunderstruck before claiming she needed more sleep.

"It never gets old," said Simon once they came to a row of buildings, one of which was Susan's. He stopped abruptly and pointed. "That's hers." Ted followed him down a short path to the front door where Simon knocked once before trying the knob. It was open, so he pushed it in. "Hey Sue?"

Susan was emerging from her living room as though she'd been on her way to answer the door. She smiled and examined the bag in Simon's hand. "That was quick."

"Too quick," he said. "We didn't even get a proper chance to mess with the poor lady."

"Come again?"

"We like to screw with old ladies' heads," Ted said innocently.

Susan gave a curious nod as if she didn't care to find out what he had meant by that, but simply accepted it for what it was worth. "At least it's just their heads."

"Well, of course," Simon said with a smile. "We're not perverts."

"Long time no see," she said to Ted as she stepped forward to give him a friendly hug. "Where have you been?"

"Nowhere fun, trust me." He followed her into the living room where he noticed that it was a far nicer flat than either his or Simon's. Her furniture looked as if it wasn't donated or found cheaply in a store, and the room was decorated properly, as though someone had taken the time to paint and hang proper pictures and accents up.

"You smell," Susan said suddenly as she leaned in and smelled Ted's robes.

He reached down and grabbed the collar of his robes and sniffed himself. "Bad?"

"No." She was shaking her head. "No, like…Draught of Peace?"

He shook his head. "I worked mostly on boil remedies today." He brushed off his clothes as if they were caked with invisible dust. "I bring home a new scent every time I work."

"It's like a mystery," she said.

"What a dull mystery," Simon said as he started pulling containers of food out of the bag.

Susan watched what he was doing for a moment before she made a disgusted face. She picked up the discarded brown paper bag that Simon had just dropped on the floor and began examining it. "Could this bag possibly have collected any more grease?" she asked. There was a rather large grease stain accumulated at the bottom corner. It made the paper of the bag look translucent.

Simon smiled as he started dividing up dinner. "There can always be more grease."

Having carefully set the bag aside as if it was some toxic substance, Susan began investigating the food containers. "You got vegetables, right?"

He held out a container to her and she smiled happily as she took it. As Simon had explained to Ted earlier, upon moving to England, Susan had decided to become a vegetarian after being rather disgusted with the meat.

"You got real food, right?" Ted teased. "You know food for humans and not unicorns?"

Simon snuck a smile as Susan gave Ted a lofty look. "You're hilarious," she said as she sat at the table and uncovered her food.

"I'm also starving," he said as Simon handed him several containers of food. Susan looked on with a puzzled expression. Between Ted and Simon both, they each had four large containers of food.

"There's no way you'll eat all that," she said as she watched them both dig in.

"Is that a dare?" Ted asked.

Simon snickered. Susan had never had the pleasure of watching the pair of them gorge on this restaurant's particular fish and chips. Four containers were nothing. Granted it wasn't a pretty site and their manners tended to be forgotten while they enjoyed it, but neither of them cared. Both had been known to fast the day-of if they were planning to eat here for the sole reason that they could stuff themselves. It was tradition. Ted actually thought it was quite telling as to how well Simon and Susan's relationship was going because Simon didn't feel the need to change tradition because she happened to be sitting there. He always figured the ultimate test of whether or not a girl was right for him would be if she could put up with him like this without being horrified. But he'd yet to meet anyone he felt met the requirement.

Susan shook her head and started cutting up a large mushroom. They ate silently for several moments until Simon asked, "What's the plan for Saturday?"

"Is Saturday when we're going out with your friend?" Susan asked, looking from Ted to Simon.

Ted finished chewing and nodded his head. "Yeah, Vic's back in town on Friday. Saturday she wants to get together, but I have to work from nine until nine."

"So, what are we doing?"

"I don't know." He shrugged. "Nothing's been planned. She wants to see my place, so we can all just meet there."

"Fine by me," Simon said as he stopped eating and stared at his food. Having already devoured a quarter of it in less than three minutes, he seemed to be contemplating how to finish the rest. "By the way, Ted, what ever happened with Elizabeth? Did you do something or did you puss out like always?"

"First of all," Ted said as he wiped his hand on his napkin and grinned. "Piss off. Second of all, something did happen as a matter-of-fact, so you can kill the whole condescending git act."

Simon smirked. "That's entirely dependent on what this 'something' was. You do understand holding the door open for her doesn't count as something notable, right?"

"You really are a git," Ted said as he and Simon laughed.

"So, let's hear it, then," Simon said as he poked his fork around in his food.

"Who's Elizabeth?" Susan asked.

"This girl Ted works with who we happened to go to school with. Ted's got some sort of inferiority complex worked into his head because she was really popular and pretty at school and he—"

"Wasn't," Ted offered, still smiling.

"You mean you two didn't own the school?" she teased.

"Anyway," Simon continued. "He and she get on well enough and I was merely suggesting—"

"You mean bothering," Ted said.

"That Ted should actually do something about it. But as usual he doesn't."

"You want to hear what happened or not?"

"By all means," said Simon. He made an over dramatic sweeping gesture with his hand for him to continue.

"We had this work meeting," he began as both Simon and Susan listened. "At the Leaky, and we ended up getting really smashed and the next thing you know she and I are snogging…"

Simon laughed, but Susan shushed him quickly.

"Then one thing led to another." He made an obvious face.

"You're full of shit."

He shrugged. "So, don't believe me."

Simon chewed on his food and seemed to be considering this. "Who initiated all of this? Did you make the first move or did she?"

"I almost did, but in the end she did."

"I'm going to start calling you 'Almost Ted,'" Simon said.

Ted picked up a handful of chips and threw it at him. Susan immediately moved to stand. "Hey, come on," she said. "Let's not make a mess."

"Sorry, sorry," Ted said quickly as he leaned over and started picking up the mess. "I'll be good."

"So, you're serious then?" Simon asked.

"Completely."

He studied Ted's face as if trying to see just how honest he was being. A smile started to play at the corner of his mouth. The look in his eyes seemed to want to push for more details, but with Susan there Ted knew he wouldn't. He instead looked away and casually said, "Well, hey, good for you. That's like living out one of your fantasies right there."

"A fantasy?" Susan laughed. "Are you really that hung up on this girl?"

"I used to fancy her back at school for awhile," Ted said. "Lots of blokes did. It was just one of those things."

"Used to?" Simon asked.

"Yeah, well…" He lazily poked his food with his fork. "The next day when we talked about things, I find out that she feels a little guilty about everything because she happens to have feelings for someone else. It's as if I have the ability to make a girl realize her true feelings for another bloke at the drop of a hat."

Susan made a sympathetic face as Simon mumbled, "Ouch."

"Yeah," he muttered. "But I'm over it."

Simon looked at him skeptically.

"I am for the most part," he added. "It's shit, don't get me wrong, but what can you do?" He shrugged. "I don't know. I think I'm going to give up on the whole idea of falling for one girl and instead just go around picking up girls for the sake of doing it. It'd probably be loads easier."

"Gee," Susan said sarcastically as she popped a zucchini into her mouth. "A guy looking to get himself laid without the responsibility of commitment. What an original concept."

"He says that," Simon said. "But he won't do it. Ted doesn't tick like that."

"Maybe I tick differently now," he suggested. "Maybe I just needed a wake up call."

"I don't believe it."

"I don't know if I do either, but why not? I'll be nineteen in just over a week. Why not live a little and just do stuff for the sake of doing it?"

"So, are you going to become a slut now?" Susan asked. Simon suddenly laughed and choked on what he was eating.

Ted threw her an amused expression. "I'm just going to live in the moment. Let's put it that way."

"Which is what? The gentleman's way of saying what I just said."

He grinned. "All right," he grabbed his third container of food, "can we talk about something besides me being pathetic?"

"But it's so easy," Simon joked.

"Quidditch World Cup," Susan said to Simon as if reminding him of something.

"Oh, right." He pointed at Ted. "You're going."

"I already know I'm going."

"How'd you know that?"

"Ginny said she got tickets."

"No." He shook his head. "You're going with us. You know bloody well you'll just end up a babysitter if you go with them."

Ted shrugged. "That doesn't bother me."

"We've got a whole plan," Simon said. "Camping, tickets, everything is covered. You just need to make sure you get off work. I don't care how you do it, just do it. It will be spectacular."

"Well, I plan on going," he said. "I just have to figure out the details."

"Let me know because we," he gestured between Susan and him, "are trying to figure out our own details. It'll be a whole bunch of people."

"I'll let you know," Ted said as he examined the food on the tip of his fork.

"My best friend is coming from home," Susan said. "She's a Quidditch nut, so I'm really excited about it. She's staying for a few weeks."

Simon suddenly began laughing. "Speaking of your friends, tell Ted about your new friend from work."

"Oh," she said as she finished her dinner and pushed her trash away. "Right, I forgot. It's sort of funny how small the world is, but apparently I'm friends with," She paused and seemed to change directions mid-thought. "Well, we're not really friends. It's more that she's a friend of a friend. We end up eating together as a group at lunch sometimes. Anyway, she knows you."

Ted stared at her. "Who is it?"

"Let it be said," Simon interjected, "that she's been having lunch with her for weeks now and she's only recently dug this information out."

"So, who is it?" Ted asked as he took an overly large bite of fried fish.

"Celia Ward."

He abruptly choked up a cough.

Simon laughed. "I had the same reaction."

"I had no idea," she continued. "I brought up Simon the other day, which I'd done before, but as I said we're not really friends so we don't talk much. She just happened to be sitting across from me and she heard me mention him, so she asked about him. Once she realized exactly who I meant, she went on about how he and she went to school together and all of that." She shrugged. "So, we talked about Simon for a bit before she asked whether or not I knew you. When I said I did, she mentioned that you two used to date for like two years or something."

"Not quite," Ted said, glancing at Simon. "But yeah. Small world."

"She asked about you," she added. "I wasn't sure how things were between you two, so I didn't say much. She wanted to know if you still worked all the time and I said you did. She seemed to think that was funny."

Ted bit his tongue and made a face. "She definitely would."

"Apparently," she continued, "she's dating this guy who works at the Ministry and he eats with us sometimes, but I think he's kind of a tool. Oddly enough though, I noticed that after she found out that I knew you and Simon, she seemed to start talking about him quite a bit more."

"I told Sue," Simon began, "that she should have told Celia some random story about how you're out shagging half of London." He smiled before his face suddenly lit up with an idea. He turned to Susan. "Do me a favor and tell her that he hooked up with Elizabeth Cole. Tell her that and tell me what she says."

"Don't do that," Ted said.

"Why the hell not?" Simon asked. "I think it would be hilarious."

Ted snorted a doubtful laugh. "For one, she wouldn't believe it."

"But you did."

"It doesn't mean she'd believe it. You barely believed it. There's no way she will."

"But you did," he said obviously. "It'd be funny."

"I know Celia. She won't believe it because she'll never think that Elizabeth and I would ever…" He trailed off. "You'd have to say someone that she could actually see me with. No matter how true what happened was."

Simon's expression grew pensive as he quietly contemplated what was said. It only took a second before another idea seemingly sprung into his head. "You know what would be even funnier?"

Ted stared at him.

"Let's tell her you and Victoire got together."

He raised his eyebrow. "No. Come on, Simon…"

"She would eat that up!" he said excitedly. "She would eat it up! You know she'd believe it. She'd believe it and it would be glorious." He smiled. "I'd have to be there to see it."

"We're not telling her that," Ted said lazily. "Why do you want to tell her anything?"

"I was wondering that, too," Susan said as she eyed Simon curiously.

"Because I get bored at work," he said as if that was a valid reason. "And let's be honest, Celia can be a bitch. She's only gotten worse since you two split. Trust me."

Ted rolled his eyes. "I'm not looking to start a war."

Simon made a disapproving grunt like sound at Ted's lack of enthusiasm before returning to his dinner. They sat in silence as Ted actually began to entertain the scenario of pranking Celia. Her reaction would actually be funny, especially if she actually believed that he and Victoire had gotten together. She probably would believe it, and she might even get a little annoyed for nostalgia's sake. He smiled a little before mumbling, "She would believe it, wouldn't she?"

"She would eat it up!" Simon cried.

"Okay," Susan said, looking from one to the other. "Does anyone want to fill me on why this would be so funny?"

"It's a long story," Simon muttered, before enthusiastically adding, "But we've got all night, so I'll tell it!"

"Oh, jeez," Ted mumbled under his breath. "For the record, whatever he says has been embellished by at least twenty percent."

"Duly noted," she said. She folded her hands in front of her and looked at Simon, as if she were awaiting a story.

"So, Victoire," he began. "You'll meet her on Saturday. She and Ted have been friends since they were born. They're really close. They can finish each other sentences and thoughts and stuff—"

Ted rolled his eyes. "We can not."

"And Celia," Simon continued, acting as though he hadn't heard Ted. "Was always madly jealous of their relationship—"

"She wasn't madly jealous."

"Fine, she was all but madly jealous," he said before turning his attention back to Susan. "So anyway, he's dating Celia and he's friends with Victoire, who, for the record, was popular, clever, and some might say attractive…"

Ted laughed loudly. "Some might say? You of all people…" He laughed again. "You were practically the leader of her fan club."

Simon shot him a silencing look.

"What?" Susan asked, but she was smiling. If Ted had ever taken Susan to be the jealous type, he wouldn't have pushed it, particularly since they were meeting Victoire so soon. But Susan was easy-going and would probably find it as funny as he did. Plus if Simon was going to act like a git…

"Let me tell you a little story about your boyfriend here," Ted said as Simon heaved a heavy breath. "Simon was essentially in love with her for years."

"I wasn't really in love with her," Simon said. "And you of all people know that. I did happen to fancy her for a bit, but that passed and we sort of just kept the joke going."

Ted made a smug face. "He'd go on and on about how she was the prettiest girl he knew and how great she is and how wonderful she is."

"At the time…" Simon corrected. "She was the prettiest girl I knew. Things have changed." He threw Susan a smile, which made her immediately laugh.

"I love hearing embarrassing stories about Simon."

"Oh, it was embarrassing all right," said Ted.

"And can I just say," Simon added. "That most of the time the only reason I talked so much about Victoire was because idiot, here," he gestured to Ted, "would sit there and claim she was ugly, and I just couldn't get through my head how he could—"

"I have never a day in my life called her ugly," Ted said matter-of-factly. "I just didn't think she was the fittest girl I'd ever seen like you did."

"Because you grew up with her," Susan offered.

"Exactly."

"So, let me see if I follow," she said. "Celia was insecure about your friendship to the point of being jealous—?"

"Madly jealous," Simon corrected.

"And you two seem to think that after all this time, she might still get annoyed if—?"

"I don't think," said Simon, "I know. And it would be funny."

"Interesting," she said, though she sounded slightly doubtful. The three of them considered each other as the conversation came to a lull; all of them rested on what had just been said. The silence wasn't broken until Susan stretched her arms and added. "Well, sweetheart, I, for one, can't wait to meet your one true love."

Ted laughed, happy to see that Susan had responded just as he had suspected she would. Simon forced a begrudging smile and shook his head. "Here we go."

"I think it's funny you both were so cliché," she said. "You both had crushes on some pretty, popular girls."

"Oh, I had crushes on lots of girls," Simon joked. "I didn't discriminate."

"And it's different," Ted said. "Elizabeth and Vic are very different."

Simon scoffed. "How do you figure that?"

"Because they are," he said obviously.

"I've always thought they were fairly similar," Simon said, "minus the fact that they look different. Which by the way, is another reason I've never understood how you could sit there and make fun of me for fancying Victoire when you were apparently soooo mad about Elizabeth."

Ted shook his head. "They're absolutely nothing alike."

Simon stared at him as if he had an extra head. "Yes, there are."

"How do you figure?"

"Do I need to draw up a chart?" he asked. "Let's see. They both were arguably the best looking girls in their years. They were both popular. They both carry themselves similarly. They're both clever and always seemed to get good marks. They've got similar friends, and even the blokes they dated could be interchangeable replicas of each other. You've told me Elizabeth has got a wicked little sense of humor, and guess what Victoire has?"

Ted stared at him. On a certain level, Simon did have a point. On paper, the two did seem very similar. Eerily similar. But they were superficial similarities. When it came down to it, they were still very, very different people. After all, if they really were so similar, Ted would have most likely fallen for Victoire in the way he'd fallen for Elizabeth, especially given how much time he spent with Victoire. But he hadn't...So there.

"He doesn't get it," Simon said after Ted hadn't bothered to say anything. "Never has, never will."

"There's nothing to get," he said with a shrug. "They're completely different."

"I cannot believe how someone so clever can be so damn dense at the same time," he said as he picked up a chip and threw it at Ted's head. Susan watched as the chip fell to the floor before she threw him an exasperated look.


	17. The Dragon's Breath

At eight-thirty on Saturday night, Ted stood in the lab listening to Magda lecture him on the various directions she was taking her case study concerning him. She had actually said Metamorphmagi, but considering he was the only one she knew, he took liberties.

He found that lately, he really was beginning to enjoy his shifts with Magda. More than anyone else he worked with, actually. Perhaps it was the lack of yelling and drama that tended to arise when he worked with Hazel or Nate, but with Magda, things were more mellowed and relaxed. Plus, there was the fact that when Magda worked, he got to spend his time doing actual research on new projects and wasn't simply forced to work on what he'd been assigned. Through her, he was learning about what a career in this field could be one day. It also reminded him why he chose this path in the first place. As it were, there were far too many days where he needed to be reminded.

"I had some really fascinating results when I mixed some of your samples with a targeted Strength Potion," she said as they casually sat talking. "You'll have to see it. I'm more convinced than ever that we're on to something here, Ted."

He smiled. It was exciting that he could be closer to making his dream of solving plaguing illness and conditions come true, simply because of who he was. He'd been wondering lately if it was fate, or just extreme coincidence, that he'd been pushed in this direction in life. Maybe he held some sort of key? That would be a strange turn of events.

"I cannot believe how slow it is tonight," Magda said as she rested her head on her hand and sighed. "You know, you can leave early if you want. Didn't you say you had plans tonight?"

"A friend of mine is home from school," he said as he started tidying up the area around him. "It's no big deal."

"So, go," she said. "Linus and I can handle all of this." She gestured around the quiet room.

He sighed and leaned against the counter top. The truth was that as much as he wanted to see Victoire, he wasn't exactly excited about the events planned. Originally she had sent him a letter instructing him when she would be home and that she wanted to see him the following day. They hadn't made any concrete plans other than meeting up with Simon and having Victoire meet Susan, so Ted had assumed that they would just relax and catch up. That's what he'd hoped at least. It was what he enjoyed most about Victoire being around; they could do nothing and still have fun.

However, all of that changed just a few hours earlier when he'd received an owl from Victoire asking him and the others to meet her at the Dragon's Breath pub. She apparently was asked to meet some other friends there and thought it would be fun for everyone to go. She added in the letter that she would be there after seven, and that she hoped he could make it because she, "really wanted to see him."

He'd read the letter twice before crumbling it up and throwing it in the rubbish. Having had no desire to go out to a pub tonight, he was a little annoyed at the fact that she'd been so keen on them hanging out, only to turn around and make it seem like she was now trying to fit them into her busy schedule. Still, he'd written Simon to ask how he felt about the idea and he'd seemed unfazed by the change. "Sounds good to me," he'd said before adding that they'd meet him at his place around nine. With Simon's lack of objection, Ted knew he had to suck it up. The things he did for Victoire.

"If you really want to hang out here all night," Magda added. "I'll go home."

"Are you trying to get rid of me?" Ted asked as he finished tidying things up before he slowly walked over to grab his things.

"Of course not." She smiled. "Now go away."

"All right, goodnight," he said with a quick wave as he slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out of the lab. He left the hospital and Apparated home where he threw his things down on the floor the second he walked through the door. He resented the idea of having to get ready, but after a deep breath, he realized he had no other choice. In an attempt to force himself into a better mood, he tried telling himself that he rarely got to see Victoire these days, so he should be excited. Though, it was hard when all he felt like doing was lying down and doing nothing. He certainly didn't feel like changing into halfway decent clothes or trying to clean himself up at all. As he opened his dresser chest and scanned his hanging clothes one by one, he was only reaffirmed of this feeling.

After changing, he walked to the sink to splash some water onto his face. As he dried his face, he caught his reflection in the mirror and started examining his face. He could definitely use some sleep. A long night's sleep or perhaps even a holiday. A week off of work would be amazing, actually.

A knock at the door caused him to look away. He checked his watch. It was ten before nine. Simon was never this early.

It's open," he yelled.

"I told you it was worth a shot to check," he heard Susan say as she and Simon entered. "I just had a feeling you'd be done with work early today."

"You're not forty-five minutes late," Ted said. "Impressive."

"Don't look at me," Simon said as she pointed at Susan. "You know if I had my way I wouldn't be here for at least another twenty minutes."

Susan looked Ted up and down. "Are you okay? You look wrecked."

"I'm really tired," he said as a yawn escaped him. "I'm not really in the mood to go out."

"Too bad for you, then," said Simon. He put his hand back on the door knob and pulled the door open. "You've got your whole life to be old and boring."

Susan swatted him on the arm before giving Ted a weary expression. "As you can see, we're obviously together because of his immense range of sensitivity."

Ted grinned before the group of them walked out of his building and down Diagon Alley towards the Dragon's Breath. As it came into view, Ted groaned a little when a sizable group of people milling around the outside of the pub became apparent. Seeing this made him suddenly remember that it was Saturday night. The worst night to come here. The place was going to be mobbed.

"Who honestly picks to go to the Dragon's Breath on a Saturday?" he asked.

"Victoire, apparently," Simon said. "I don't know about you, but I love waiting ten minutes for a pint."

Ted's face said that he agreed with that as they reached the door to the pub and pulled it open. They were hit by the familiar stale smell of pipe tobacco, sweat, and various other odors that made the pub equally charming and obnoxious. The place was immensely crowded, and Ted found that he could barely see more than five feet in front of him in any given direction.

"Oh boy…" Simon mumbled as he started scanning the room.

"Oh!" Susan said jumping up and down a little to get a better view. "I think I see a group of people getting up right there. Come on! Let's get the table." She grabbed at Simon's arm and started pulling him away as he turned towards Ted and silently communicated that they'd get the table if he got the drinks.

Looking up at the bar, which was several rows of people deep, Ted couldn't help but feel as though he'd gotten the raw end of this deal. He sighed and even stopped to crack his neck as he began pushing his way up to the front. It only took him a few minutes to fight through the crowd and finally manage to inch his way into a spot at the counter top. Now he only had to get the bartender's attention.

Ted recognized the bartender immediately. It was the same troll like man with the eye patch that had served him dirty water several months previously. He hadn't exactly been a beacon of hospitality that night when the pub wasn't jammed full of people, so Ted somehow doubted he would be much better tonight. In an attempt to signal for his attention, it went ignored until Ted's fifth attempt when a voice from beside him said, "You'll have to be more assertive."

He turned and saw a pretty, young woman with short dark hair sitting on the stool in front of him. She was grinning at him, having obviously witnessed his several failed attempts.

"I think short of offering him my first born child, I'm not getting anything," he muttered.

"Do you have a child to offer him?"

He smiled. "Not on me."

She turned around and pivoted herself forward so that she was leaning over the bar. "Hey Milch."

The bartender stopped in his tracks and smiled his toothless smile at her. "What do you need, love?"

She turned and smiled at Ted before making a nodding gesture for him to go on ahead. "It's for my friend, here."

"You need something?" Milch the bartender asked, his tone not nearly as friendly as it had been moments before.

"Uh, can I get three pints of…whatever?"

The bartender grunted and disappeared a moment later to fetch his drinks. Ted turned and smiled at the woman. "Thanks."

"Not a problem," she said. "I enjoy helping men in distress."

"I wouldn't say I was in distress," he said, feeling as though he was suddenly more intrigued by her, "but I'll admit that I like being helped." She laughed. It was a high sounding, infectious sort of laugh that instantly made him grin. "I'm Ted, by the way."

"Lydel," she said as she put out her hand to shake his. "Very nice to meet you, Ted."

He smiled as the bartender returned and dropped three glasses down in front of him. As he paid, he even took notice of the fact that they looked clean.

"Off you go, then," she said to him as she watched him collect all three glasses.

"I'm sure I'll be back," he said in a vague sort of way. Of course, he had been alluding to the fact that he'd be back for more drinks later on, but the way she smiled at him as he said it, he quickly realized that he had just unintentionally sounded charming. As usual, he was on his best game by complete accident.

"I hope so," she said as someone tapped her shoulder and she turned in the opposite direction. As he walked away, feeling a little high off of the encounter, he suddenly didn't mind the place being so crowded and noisy after all. In fact, he didn't even feel quite so tired.

Finagling his way back through the crowd, he searched in the direction that Susan and Simon had disappeared off into and noticed them both sitting at a high table near the center of the room. It took him one extra second to see Victoire standing there talking to them. She had a large smile plastered on her face and seemed to be practically bouncing on the spot. She seemed especially energetic.

"It's far too crowded up there," Ted said as he approached the table. "This is why I never come here. You can never get a drink in under ten minutes."

"And that's on a good night," Simon said.

Ted made eye contact with Victoire and smiled at her. "And you picked this place…" he said, his tone laced with fake disapproval.

"Oh, shut up," she said cheerfully as she suddenly ran around the table and threw her arms around his neck tightly.

"How you been?" he asked as he pulled away and looked her up and down. She had dressed up a little, or perhaps that's just how she dressed these days. He wasn't sure, but knowing how much she'd seemed to have matured in the last year, it was probably the latter. "You look good."

"You do, too," she said in an overly jovial tone as she hugged him again. "I've missed you. It's been too long."

"Yeah," he said as he leaned against the table and continued to smile at her. He was trying to get a good look at her face and her eyes in particular. She was acting awfully excited to see him, and while he didn't doubt she was, he had a feeling that her excess giddiness was somewhat alcohol induced.

"Aren't they cute?" Simon said to presumably Susan. "In a sweet little 'friends forever' sort of way?"

"Aww, I've never seen Ted be sweet," Susan joked. "I didn't know he had it in him."

Ted threw her a look just as Victoire suddenly jumped to a start and exclaimed, "Oh!" before walking back around the table. When she returned a moment later, she was pulling another girl along with her. The girl was a little taller than Victoire, with brown hair and a sheepish sort of demeanor about her, though she looked vaguely familiar. It wasn't until Victoire said, "Ted, this is Whit. Whit, this is Ted," that he realized who she was given all times Victoire had mentioned her in her letters.

"Hi," Ted said politely. "I've heard a lot about you."

"Probably not as much as I've heard about you," Whit said with a quick smile.

"Hopefully good stuff." He looked at Victoire expectantly.

"Is there any other kind?" she asked with a silly, almost sloppy smile. With that, his suspicions about whether or not she'd been drinking were all but confirmed.

"Have you been drinking?"

"I'm old enough," she said defensively.

"That's not what I asked."

"Maybe a little."

"Maybe two pints," Whit said, nodding towards a half empty pint glass on the table.

"Oh, really?" he asked. "Planning on getting smashed, then?"

"No." She shook her head. "No more after this one."

"Yeah…okay," he said with a doubtful grin. She shot him a breezy look that seemed to say that she didn't want to dwell on the matter, so he decided to push on. "So wait, why the change of plans to come here?"

Victoire suddenly glanced over her shoulder at something. She slowly turned back around. "It's a friend's birthday."

"Which friend?"

"Just a friend." She looked away again and crossed her arms. Ted immediately recognized this as classic Victoire Weasley behavior. She always resorted to this when she had a secret she didn't want to tell. She'd been doing it for as long as he could remember.

"Oh, this should be good," he said dryly as he turned to Whit with hopes that she didn't play Victoire's game. "So, who is it?"

"Stuart Reynolds," she said without missing a beat.

He groaned. "I should have known…" he said as he made a face. Everything Elizabeth had told him about Stuart's lies came flooding into his thoughts at that very moment. He had been secretly hoping that Victoire was over him by now so that he wouldn't have to tell her something she may not want to hear, but it seemed that wasn't the case. "You're still…?" He rolled his eyes and turned towards Simon. "Hey Simon, guess who Victoire fancies?"

"Who?"

"Stuart Reynolds."

Simon made a face and started to laugh as if on cue. Victoire didn't seem to appreciate the teasing at her expense and rounded on Ted. With a certain flash in her eyes, she deliberately asked, "And how's your love life there, Ted?"

"Pathetic," he said quickly. He knew that right now given her semi-drunk state that it was not the time to get into details, but pathetic seemed to sum it up rather nicely. "I work too much and I've pretty much forgotten what girls look like."

"Did you ever really know?" she asked. "I mean, we all saw Celia."

"Wow," Simon said with a short laugh that he immediately hid behind his fist. Ted nodded as if dutifully accepting the comment. He cracked a small smile.

"That was cold," he said, "but I see how it is. I trash your boy, and you take a piss at me. I can handle it."

"You were being mean," she said as she poked him in his side. "All's fair in love and war."

"Well, perhaps I should attempt to turn my pathetic love life around," he said as he cast a glance towards the bar and thought of the pretty girl with the dark hair. "There's a really cute girl up at the bar I was thinking about talking to, but knowing my luck she's dating some big bloke who could break me in half."

"Probably," Victoire said in a sing-song tone. "But you'll never know if you don't try." She smiled at him.

He stared at her. He was trying not to laugh, but little, drunk, Victoire was probably one of the funniest things he'd ever seen. It was like a novelty. The longer he stared at her, the more he wanted to laugh. He only managed to last a several seconds before giving in.

"What's so funny?" Victoire asked.

"You." He shook his head. "Drinking. You're funny."

She suddenly screwed up her face in a way that was halfway between a pout and looking insulted. A look that was horrifying and absolutely adorable at the exact same time. It also only made Ted laugh harder.

"Aww, in a cute way," he said as he reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. "Particularly that face you're making. Keep that up. I'm sure Reynolds will love it."

She shot him a sharp look and said, "You're not funny, Ted," just as Whit happened to laugh beside her. In one fluid moment, she turned and gave Whit the same look. "Don't encourage him."

"No, please do," he said, smiling brightly at Whit as he stood and wrapped his arms around Victoire's shoulders, giving her a small squeeze. "Teasing her like this is one of the few reasons worth knowing her."

"The sad part is, you probably mean that," Victoire said as she looked straight up at him and caught his eyes. They were very glassy and practically crystal blue at the moment.

"Of course I do," he joked as he let go of her and glanced up towards the bar again. Victoire was far too spacey tonight to actually sit down and talk to, not to mention she probably only had one thing on her mind and that was Reynolds. His mind drifted back to the girl at the bar before he glanced down at the drink in his hand. It was half gone and he was going to need another. It was as good an excuse as any to go back up there. He took a step in the direction.

"Where are you going?" Simon asked.

"To get another," he said, gesturing to his half empty glass. "By the time I get served again, I'll be done."

"Make sure you talk to the cute girl," Victoire said as if reading his mind, which actually made him hesitate for a second. "Perhaps she can keep you out of my hair for a bit." She smirked. "That'd be nice!"

"You probably mean that," he called back over his shoulder.

"Of course I do," she said in what Ted assumed was her trying to impersonate him. He threw her a smile before walking back up to the bar.

He squeezed his way back up there much quicker this time, though he'd ended up on the opposite end from where he'd been before. The bartender was busy telling some sort of animated story to a group of particularly large and tough looking men, all of whom were laughing loudly and clinking their glasses together. He glanced down the bar and noticed that Lydel was still sitting where she had been before, chatting with what Ted assumed were her friends.

He bit his lip and thought about whether or not he should bother going down to talk to her again. A part of him wondered if it was worth it, since after all, what could possibly come from meeting some girl in a bar? Another part of him was telling himself to remember what he'd been telling himself just days before. There was a lot of fun in just randomly meeting people and living in the moment. It was the best way to get over rejection, right? Why should he have to worry about the future when really, he should only be worrying about the present? He continued to bounce these thoughts back and forth in his head until he stood up straight and took a reassuring breath. He made his way down there.

"You need something?" the bartender asked as Ted momentarily caught his attention. At this, a few people in the vicinity turned to look at him, including Lydel. Everyone else turned back to their own business almost immediately, but she smiled again.

"Yeah, the house stuff," he said to the bartender before smiling at her.

"Back so soon?" she asked.

"I guess I'm just thirsty." He smiled.

"Well, that makes two of us," she said pleasantly enough as she sipped on something green looking.

He ran a hand through his hair as the bartender returned and placed a glass down in front of him. Before he left, Ted was suddenly compelled to stop him. "Hold on." He looked at her. "Can I buy you a drink?"

She smiled.

"So, you want another one?" the bartender asked her.

She nodded and smiled at Ted. "Thank you," she said as she turned around in her chair towards him. "So, Ted, what brings you here tonight?"

"Here?" He gestured around. "I'm just meeting some friends. Nothing exciting."

She nodded. "Same here. I had to get out after a rough week at work."

"Where do you work?" he asked as the bartender returned with her drink. She smiled at him, and then at Ted again as if silently thanking him.

"The Daily Prophet."

"Yeah?" Ted asked as he thought of Ginny. "I know someone who works there. They're a Quidditch correspondent."

"Really?" she asked excitedly. She gulped a large sip of drink upon hearing this. "When I started out, I worked in sport. I'm in Ministry Affairs now, but I really enjoyed it while I was there. Who was it?"

"You like Quidditch?" he asked, trying to change the subject from name dropping Ginny. Just like with Harry, he didn't like going around mentioning that he happened to be close with her since some people would think he was doing it to seem cool or well connected. Plus, saying you knew Ginny Potter wasn't exactly hard to do seeing as her own Quidditch career had put her on the map in her own right.

"I love it," she said. "I played at school for awhile, but now I just follow it. That's why it was so exciting to work in it at the Prophet because you get to meet and see so many famous people. For example, I was a big fan of Ginny Weasley, or Potter if you will…"

Ted nodded and casually looked away.

"When she was playing for the Holyhead Harpies, and then, when I started at the Prophet, I found out she's really involved there, so that was a thrill. It was the same with Davis Lowe. Reginald Parkerson came in one day too. Do you know who he is?"

"Beater for the Tutshill Tornados," he said immediately. "From 1996-2011."

She smiled. "You do know your Quidditch. Did you play?"

He made a playful, wide-eyed face before shaking his head. "I've never been much of a flyer, to be honest. I'm sort of uncoordinated on a broom. I'm just an enthusiast."

"Who's your team?"

He considered this. "I've always liked the Harpies, actually."

She seemed surprised to hear this.

"What?" He smiled as he thought of Ginny again. "They're fantastic. But I also grew up a huge Wimborne Wasps fan, because as a kid, I idolized Kensworth Judge."

"I loved him, too!" she said excitedly as she touched him on the arm. "I would have loved to have met him."

"I did, actually," he said, smiling a little as he thought about the few encounters he'd had with Judge over the years through Ginny. He could remember meeting him for the first time at Harry and Ginny's wedding, followed by several instances after that. He'd always been exceptionally nice to him and a true class act.

"You had to have been young if you met him before he died," she said.

"I was a kid," he said before he stopped and smirked at her. "Why, how old do you think I am?"

She looked him up and down. "Twenty-one?"

It was close enough. Plus, if he could pass for twenty-one he was going to run with it. "Good guess."

"I'm twenty-three." She smiled. "So, you would have been two years behind me in school? What house were you in?"

He laughed a little. He hadn't exactly considered this being asked and hoped she didn't happen to be particularly close with any Hufflepuffs in the year below her. "Um, Hufflepuff."

She nodded and didn't seem to notice the discrepancy. "I was in Gryffindor." She smiled at him. "So, what do you do for a living, Ted?"

"I…" he said slowly, "I work over at St. Mungo's."

"As a Healer?"

He shook his head. "No, not exactly. I work in remedy and antidote research."

"Oh," she said looking a little confused, "what does that entail?"

"I research diseases and maladies and come up with alternative ways to treat them." He paused. "Or ideally, cure them."

She nodded. "That sounds interesting. Have you ever cured anything?"

"Not yet," he said with an amused smile. "I'm working on it, though."

"It sounds like quite the challenge."

"I like to think it is," he began as he suddenly noticed Simon working his way through the crowd towards him. He stared at him curiously until he reached the bar.

"Hey," Simon said. "Go outside."

Ted gave him an obvious look before making a subtle gesture towards Lydel. Simon gave her a quick and awkward smile before returning his gaze to Ted. "Trust me on this."

"Why?"

"Well for starters, Victoire's leaving."

Ted checked his watch. "It's a quarter to ten, why is she leaving?"

"Go outside and see for yourself."

"Is something wrong?"

Simon shrugged and shot him a look that told him to just do as he asked. Ted returned it with an aggravated sigh before turning back towards Lydel. "I have to go and check on a friend of mine."

She nodded as if she understood. Ted took a long swig of his drink before heading towards the exit of the pub. Maneuvering his way through the crowd and pushing open the front door, he was almost surprised at the immediate difference in temperatures once he hit the cool night air. He glanced to his left and saw Victoire and Whit sitting on the curb together; the former with her head sandwiched between her knees.

"You're leaving?" he asked as he walked towards them. He noticed Whit had a hand on Victoire's back and seemed to be rubbing it almost reassuringly. Victoire was probably just feeling sick from drinking too much. He knelt down besides them. "How much did she drink?"

"Just the two pints and a shot of something," Whit said. "The shot is what did it, though."

He laughed a little. So, she was feeling sick. "Well, that'll get you every time."

"It made me feel better," she said in a meek sounding voice, her head still between her knees. "Until now, that is."

"Feel better about what?" he asked.

Whit took a deep breath and looked at him with a somber expression. "She saw Stuart Reynolds and Colleen Lynch sort of snogging. Heavily. She got upset."

He looked straight back at Victoire. "Oh, bloody hell," he muttered as he suddenly realized what this was really all about. "Vic, I'm sorry."

"He's a prat and she's a whore."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked as he stood up and gazed down on her. She looked small.

"It wouldn't have changed anything," she mumbled.

He turned away and started down the street at the various lights and stores that people were bustling in and out of. She obviously needed to get away from here, but the last place she could go was home. He knew all too well that her mother would most likely have a conniption fit if she saw her eldest daughter half-drunk.

"You can't let her go home like this," he said to Whit. "Her parents will go ballistic if she turns up in this state." He glanced back at the pub. "Here, will you watch her for a second. I'll be right back."

Whit nodded as he turned back and walked straight back into the pub. He made his way to where Susan and Simon were sitting and talking. They both looked up as he approached.

"Is she okay?" Simon asked.

"She's smashed and feeling shitty. I can't let her go home like that."

"What are you going to do?"

"Take her back to my place and let her sober up," he said. "I just came to tell you both that I was taking off."

Simon nodded as Susan gave Ted a supportive smile. "We'll see you later."

He forced a quick smile in return and turned back towards the exit. He thought for a split second that he should go and perhaps say something to Lydel to be polite, but it seemed like an unnecessary hassle. At this rate, it was a lost cause anyway.


	18. A Moment of Strange

Ted reached the front door of the pub and pushed it open with a swift push. Almost immediately, he felt it slam up against someone who was standing on the other end. His expression turned embarrassed as he reached around to utter an apology, but stopped when he realized who it was. Colleen Lynch stood there adjusting her clothes and straightening herself out after the collision. They made eye contact and Ted felt no sympathy. In fact, he sort of wished he would have pushed the door a little harder.

"Ted Lupin?"she asked with an all too familiar laugh. "Is that you?"

He gave her a disinterested look and walked toward where Victoire and Whit were still sitting. He almost dared her to start something right now.

"Damn," she added, "you look different without your hair being blue or green or whatever ridiculous color you'd make it." She laughed. "You actually almost look normal."

"Wish I could say the same for you," he mumbled as he knelt down next to the Victoire with a look of concern. "You still look as trashy as ever."

Colleen stopped and stared at him while Victoire met his eyes and let out a short laugh.

"Still a freak, I see," she said as she turned to walk away.

"And you're still the worst," he said casually, without bothering to look at her. "Somethings never change."

She stopped and Ted turned to look at her. She seemed game to have it out in the middle of the street, and he would have been more than happy to oblige, but her friend, Penelope, had already begun pulling her away. She eventually relented and followed after her. The sounds of her annoying screech of a laugh trailing behind.

"Good riddance," he said as he turned back to the girls in front of hi,. "You know, they're in for a rude awakening one of these days."

Victoire watched as he stood back up. "You really think so?"

"I know so." He reached out his hand to help her up and she took it. Come on, let's get out of here."

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"You can come and sober up a bit at my place," he said. "We can't send you home like this."

"You don't have to leave on account of me," she said as she blinked a few times. "I thought you met some girl or something."

"Don't worry about me."

"I don't want to ruin your night. I'd hate to be to blame for-"

"You worry too much," he said as he shook his head and turned toward Whit. "Do you want to come? I live just down there."

"Yeah, I'll help get her there," she said as the three of them began to walk down the street toward his place. In her drunken state, Victoire seemed positively giddy to hear that she finally got to see Ted's flat. She was carrying on about how it would be good to see him living on his own like a proper adult. She was even attempting to skip as she said it; a bad idea considering she would have fallen flat on her face had Ted and Whit not been there to steady her out.

"It's right here," Ted said as he stepped in front of them and opened his front door with his wand. "Again, it's really nothing special." He pointed his wand inside and light instantly filled the room as he let the girls pass in front of him. "Make yourself at home."

Whit strolled straight over to the sofa to have a seat, but Victoire stood in the middle of the room as if examining everything within her direct line of sight. "It's cozy."

"I try." He grinned and watched Victoire wander toward his bedroom. She pushed open the door and stood in the threshold scanning the space inside.

"I'm impressed."

"By all of my nothingness?" he joked as he stood next to her and watched her continue to look around.

She shrugged and returned to the living room, where she sat down next to Whit. She leaned her head back and looked as if she was about to pass out at any given minute until the sound of dull tapping filled the room. Snapping her head forward in a startled manner, she looked from side to side. "What's that noise?"

"Oh," Ted said as he glanced at the window and saw Auggie sitting on the sill, tapping his beak against the glass. "I wonder how long he's been out there."

"What a pretty owl," Whit said from the sofa as Ted opened the window and let Auggie inside. "Is he yours?"

"Yeah, he said as he detached the letter from Auggie, who–once free of the letter–quickly flew to his cage.

"It's really beautiful," said Whit. "Is it male or a female?"

"A male," he said absently as he started to read his letter. It was from Harry.

Teddy,

Monday night we're planning on going over to Arthur and Molly's for a big family dinner of sorts. I wanted to let you know so you could plan ahead. I know you're busy, but it would be fantastic if you could come. Let me know.

-Harry

Ted began thinking about his schedule for Monday, until he noticed Whit curiously staring from Auggie to him. Had she asked him something when he wasn't paying attention? "His name is Auggie," he added superfluously.

"How come you didn't send him with any of your letters when you wrote?" Victorie asked as her head peeked around the top of the sofa. "You always used standard post owls."

"He's getting older," Ted said, folding up Harry's letter and dropping it onto his desk. "The trip to Hogwarts wears on him. "It's easier to send the younger post owls." He reached down to pet him, but Auggie snapped at him and he retracted his fingers immediately. "He's not dumb though, but as you can see he's getting grouchy because he's a crotchety, old geezer." Auggie snapped at him again and Ted smiled. "Still, I wouldn't trade him for the world."

Whit laughed and suddenly stood from the sofa. She walked across the room to where Ted had set up several of the picture frames that he had bothered to put out and began examining them; starting first on the photo that was of Harry and him as a kid. Next was of his grandmother, followed by the present Albus and Lily had given him when he had moved in. Lastly, was a photo of him and his parents that had been taken when he was just a few days old. It was one of the few pictures he had of his parents, and the only picture of the three of them.

"Sorry, I'm nosy," Whit said as she noticed him watching her.

"By all means," he said as he started to walk toward the sofa. "I don't have much to offer as far as entertainment's concerned, so whatever you find."

"Ever thought of decorating?" Victoire mumbled as Ted plopped down next to her. She was squinting around the room, as if the lights were bothering her. "You know, make the place a bit more cheerful. A little paint, perhaps?"

"I've thought about it plenty," he said. "Now ask me if I ever have the time."

"You have to have some time," she said as she turned to look at him. Her eyelids drooped lower.

"I don't think you realize how much I work."

She didn't have an answer to this, but instead closed her eyes once again. Ted almost thought she had drifted off to sleep right then and there, but several moments later–after Whit had inquired about the photo of Harry's kids that was on his desk–she was up again answering questions. Of course, in the next moment she was back to looking practically comatose, but it wasn't until she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder that he started to wonder if she was okay.

"You alright?" he asked and he looked toward his room. "Go lie down. I'll wake you in a bit."

She opened her eyes and squinted up at him. "Are you sure?"

"It doesn't bother me."

She looked to have considered the idea for all of three seconds before she was up on her feet and shuffling toward the room. Ted watched her go through the open doorway, seeing that she had crawled right into bed. She looked as if she was already out.

He stood and sighed; he walked over to his room, extinguishing the lights with his wand and a quick charm. He shut the door behind him before grinning at Whit. "She's out."

"I'm not surprised," she said, glancing back down at the frame that she was still holding in her hands. She turned and awkwardly set it back down where she had found it.

"You can hang out," Ted offered. He didn't know if she felt odd sitting here with him given that they barely knew each other, but he didn't mind either way.

"She'll be okay, right?"

He nodded and sat back down. "I'll let her sleep it off for a bit and then I can make her something that will make her as good as new."

She looked at him curiously as she sat back down on the other end of the sofa. "Really?"

"Yeah, it's just a standard remedy thing." He kicked his shoes off and put his feet onto the coffee table. "It's harmless."

She smiled a little and stretched her arms out in front of her. They were both quiet as an awkward silence filled the room. Ted figured that he might as well bring up the one thing he knew they had in common.

"So, how's Vic doing this year?" he asked. "Seriously, I mean. I can't ever tell by her letters because half the time it seems like it's the end of the world and the next minute she's happier than ever."

She made a funny face. "Well, that's Victoire in a nutshell, isn't it?"

He smiled. "True."

"I think she's okay," she said seriously. "Obviously the Stuart stuff aside, but I know she's been doing really well in her subjects. Then Colleen's bee a bit much, but–" She laughed awkwardly. "I don't know if Victoire's mentioned that Colleen's been stirring the pot a bit with everyone."

"Yeah, she mentioned it," he said. "I remember telling her to keep her eyes open because I would never buy that Colleen would let things go so easily."

"Right," she said quickly. "Right, I remember Victoire mentioned that you said something in a letter. I'm fairly sure that's what made us start realizing things were weird in the first place." She shook her head. "Anyway, it's been a bit mad, but things have a way of working themselves out. They did for me."

"Are you the one who Colleen tried to…?" He searched his head for what exactly Victoire had said in one of her letters. "Something about a fake note, right?"

She nodded. "That's me."

"But you worked that out?"

She nodded again. "Yes, Jack and I worked things out."

"Jack who?"

"Oh, sorry. Jack's my boyfriend," she clarified. "I don't know why I would expect you to know that."

He smiled a little. "I figured, but I was just wondering which Jack. Whether I knew him."

"Right," she said obviously. "Sorry. Ians. Jack Ians."

He laughed. "You're dating Jack Ians?"

She blushed a little and nodded. "Why is that funny?"

"No, I've just…" He laughed again and thought about the few times he'd met Jack Ians. If he remembered correctly, he was Louis Weasley's best mate and the same kid who had kicked his arse in Quidditch the few times they'd played together with the other Weasleys. Ted had a distinct memory of this happening one summer when he was fifteen and Jack would have been about twelve. At the time, he was already a fairly solidly built kid; he'd probably only gotten bigger. "I just forget he's probably not the same little kid I used to know."

"Yeah, he's definitely not little," she said.

Ted threw her an amused smile as she said it. She didn't even seem to realize how one could easily take what she said in a totally different context until she saw his face. As it dawned on her, she immediately turned bright red. "Oh, no. I meant size wise."

Even though he knew what she meant, he continued to give her an impressed smile that only made her turn redder. There was something sweet and childlike about the way she seemed to embarrass so easily.

She shook her head. "Okay, this is all coming out wrong. I meant bug as in his body. He's a big guy, not that he had a big–" She seemed flustered. "Not to say he doesn't, because I don't–" She shut her mouth. "I'm going to stop talking now."

He smiled. "I knew what you meant. I was only giving you a hard time."

She still looked a little embarrassed. "You and Victoire both love doing that."

"She's better at it than I am," he said.

She looked away, still pink in the face but notably less so than moments before. Wanting to keep things from getting awkward, since he didn't know her well enough to know whether he'd annoyed her or not, he decided to bring the conversation back to something more neutral.

"Is she going to beat herself up over this Stuart thing?"

Whit turned back and looked at him. She seemed to be considering this. "I don't know. She knew all along that there was a chance it wouldn't work out, but…" She sighed. "I think Victoire wears her heart on her sleeve more than she lets on."

"She always has."

She nodded. "It's just a matter of what happens next. I really think things are over though, if that's what you're worried about. I can't see her falling for him again after this."

He nodded absently. "That's good to know. To be honest, I've never really liked the kid."

"Why?"

He immediately thought of saying how was a long story, but instead said, "Because he's a wanker."

She grinned. "I think Vic's mentioned you saying that a few times."

"Has she really?" he asked with a half-smile. "Maybe she listens to me more than I think she does."

"Trust me," she said, matter-of-factly, "she does." She looked away. "I think it's just a matter of her finding someone who compliments her in ways that really count."

"Exactly," he said as he reached down to scratch his socked foot. When he glanced back at her, she was staring at him furtively, but turned away the second they made eye contact.

They ended up talking for a good hour more, mostly about Victoire and some of her more amusing habits. They discussed school and Ted found out that Whit was interested in a career magical law one day. She, in turn, asked him about his job and what exactly he did. She seemed like a very genuine person, which Ted found that he liked most about her. He'd known after talking to her for just a few minutes that he already liked her more than he'd liked most of Victoire's other friends. It was just nice to know that Victoire seemed to be getting some normalcy in her school life. She needed it after the likes of Colleen.

When he stood and claimed that he was going to make Victoire's hangover remedy before waking her up, Whit said that she'd better be going.

"It was really nice meeting you, though," she said as Ted went fussing about in his ingredients cabinet. "It's nice to put an updated face to all the stories Victoire tells."

"Updated face?" he asked, looking up from what he was doing.

"Oh well, I remember you from school," she said as she began walking towards the door. "Gobstones Club."

A distant memory of what Victoire had told him at Christmas time about her friend who knew him from Gobstones Club materialized in his head. He hadn't put two and two together that Whit was the same friend. "Right. Gobstones Club. Good times."

"I wasn't in it very long," she added.

"You missed out," he said with a smile as he collected what he needed and began walking over towards the kitchen. "It was the place to be."

She let out a small laugh that sounded more polite rather than her actually finding him funny. "Let Victoire know that I'll talk to her later."

"Will do," he said as he began mixing ingredients. "Have a good night."

"Night," she called back, but she was already out of sight as she said it. He heard the door snap shut and returned to concentrating on the task in front of him. This was the first time he was actually making this remedy for someone that wasn't himself. It was a welcomed change to not be the one who needed it.

As he finished blending everything he needed, he observed its consistency and poured the murky brown liquid into a glass. It smelled as rank as it always did, and he immediately knew that Victoire was going to bitch about having to drink it. He shrugged and reached for a bag of crisps that he knew would be helpful with the terrible aftertaste since he'd learned it was always good to eat something afterwards.

Using his back to push open the door to his room, he maneuvered the glass and the crisps from hand to hand as he drew his wand from his pocket. Light immediately filled the room, and he couldn't help but smile when he saw Victoire sound asleep and wedged awkwardly between the side of the bed and wall. It looked like the sort of position that seemed quite uncomfortable, but in all reality was probably ideal.

He approached the side of the bed and sat on the edge. "Hey. Wake up," he said with a quick nudge.

She opened her eyes gradually and recoiled from the light. She seemed disoriented as she slowly turned over and took him in.

He smiled. "Good morning, sunshine."

"It's morning?" she asked in a hoarse voice.

"I'm kidding. You've only been in here for a little over an hour."

"Oh." She positioned herself up into a sitting position and ran a hand through her hair. It had been messy and unkempt, but it only took her two attempts at straightening it out for it to look perfectly normal again. She groaned a little. "I'm never drinking again."

He smiled and held out the potion. "Drink this."

"What is that?" she asked as her eyes grew wide with disgust.

"It'll make you feel better," he said. "Trust me. I learned it at the hospital."

"Can I just have some water?"

"This will do more than water will."

She apprehensively took it from him and tentatively sniffed. She made an even more disgusted face and held it away from her. "This is horrible. Are you trying to kill me?"

"Clearly," he joked as he pulled his legs onto the bed and scooted up so that he was leaning against the headboard. "Trust me, you'll thank me later."

She glared at him and grumbled something before plugging her nose and attempting to drink it. She coughed and gagged several times, but after a few attempts she managed to get the entire thing down. "What will that do?" she sputtered.

"Have you ever had Pepper-Up Potion?" he asked as he reached forward for the bag of crisps he had brought over and opened them. "It's sort of like that, except it works against the alcohol in your body. It'll completely sober you up over the course of the next few minutes."

"It's horrible," she said, plopping herself back down into a lying position.

"It's better than what your parents will do to you if you show up back home smashed," he said as he held out the bag of crisps to her, even though she wasn't looking. In his head, he silently began counting down, Five…Four…Three…Two…and just as he expected—just as he hit one—she turned and propped herself up on her elbows and began helping herself to food.

"Is Whit…?" she began. "Is she still here?"

"She left not too long ago," he said, just as she stuffed an entirely too large handful of crisps into her mouth. "We talked about you for a little bit. I like her. She's nice."

"Schow du I," she said with her mouth full.

"Come again?" he joked. "I'm sorry, I don't speak that language."

She suddenly laughed and covered her mouth to keep from spitting crumbs out. She began chewing faster so that she could swallow and actually speak, but Ted decided to have some fun with this. He sat smirking at her, knowing that the longer he did this, the harder time she would have swallowed since she couldn't seem to stop laughing at him. So, of course, he kept it up.

"Don't choke," he said casually as she started to turn red from holding her laughter in. When she finally did swallow, she swatted him.

"I said, 'so do I.' I like her, too."

"Ohhh, was that all?" he teased. "Here I thought you were attempting Mermish."

"You're a prat," she said as she laughed and lay back down. Ted smiled at her. This was how he most enjoyed things between the two of them. This was how he had wanted to spend the night originally…Well, not necessarily lying in his bed, because that was a bit weird even for them, but just sitting and talking and doing nothing. It was what they did best.

"You know, she told me she's dating Jack Ians," Ted said as he chewed. "I forgot he wasn't twelve still."

"Yeah, funny how kids have a crazy habit of growing up, isn't it?" she said sarcastically.

"Isn't it?" he said as he ignored her sarcasm and stretched his legs out in front of him so that he was more comfortable. "I swear James being at Hogwarts blows my mind. Every time I go over to the house to visit, I have to stop myself from asking Harry and Ginny where he is."

She smiled up at him before suddenly making a sick face. "How long until this stuff starts working?"

"Soon," he said, looking down at her. "I've taken it a few times myself and I've always seen it work fairly quickly. It depends on how much you've had to drink."

"I hope so," she said softly as she turned her gaze towards the ceiling. "It's really hot in here."

"Because you've been drinking."

In that very instant, she quickly sat up and abruptly pulled the sweater she was wearing over her head. For a split-second, Ted had to stop and ask himself what exactly she was doing. He'd even stopped chewing the food in his mouth. Perhaps it was because she was lying in his bed and pulling her clothes off, but his mind automatically went to a place where he imagined her stripping off far more. Stranger yet, he found himself watching her as if he was waiting to see if she would.

It wasn't until she threw the jumper to the foot of the bed and straightened out the t-shirt she'd been wearing underneath that he'd realized that she'd literally just mentioned that she had been hot. She had been hot, so she was taking her jumper off. Obviously that was all there was to it…Yet, here he was imagining other, far less innocent, scenarios altogether. Odder still, was that he had actually found himself a little excited by the prospect, and it wasn't until she lay back down and smiled up at him that he realized he'd been staring. He immediately started chewing again and averted his eyes into the bag of crisps.

"Thanks, by the way," she said. "For everything."

"Oh," he said, still examining the bottom of the bag as if he was searching for something inside.

"Yeah. Whatever." He felt incredibly awkward at the idea that he'd just imagined Victoire as something at all sexual. It was quite possibly one of the oddest feelings he'd ever felt, but it had also been a little thrilling. Was he really that frustrated with women? He needed to get a grip...

She smiled again and he noticed she was watching him. His new found awkwardness only increased under her gaze and he immediately wondered if he somehow looked guilty. He felt a little guilty. He felt as though he'd done something wrong and her staring wasn't helping matters. Had she somehow noticed what had happened? He had been staring at her, but there was no way…was there? The silence needed to end.

"So, some shit night for you, huh?" he asked suddenly.

"It's been horrible," she said, finally looking away from him. "And Simon's girlfriend probably thinks I'm completely mental."

"Probably," he said with his mouth full, "but she had to find that out sometime."

"Go easy on me," she said, "I've had a rough night." She reached over and tried to punch him in leg, which actually felt more like a tap rather than anything close to a punch, but he still made the effort to squirm out of the way and nearly fell off the bed in the process. Victoire burst out laughing and, after Ted had managed to catch and steady himself back on the bed, he even found himself laughing.

"Ow, my stomach hurts," she groaned through her laughter as she turned over onto her side and faced the wall away from him. "Don't make me laugh."

"Then don't punch me!" he said as he tried to work the laughter out of his own system. He took a deep breath and exhaled, happy that the feeling of awkwardness had passed just as quickly as it'd come. "Hey, are you going to the Quidditch World Cup?"

"Yes, I think so," she said. "Are you?"

"Of course I am. You really think I wouldn't?"

"I don't know." She turned back towards him. "You're always so busy."

"Yeah, but things are getting better," he said as he crumbled up his empty bag and threw it towards the rubbish bin. It bounced off the rim of the bin and fell to the floor.

"Nice shot," she teased.

"Nobody likes a smartarse," he said as he pulled his wand out and pointed it towards the bag. It lifted neatly inside.

"I can't help it," she said. "You make it so easy."

"Well, it takes one to know one," he said as he thought of Albus saying that to James in any given argument. Upon realizing that he was using the retorts of an eleven-year-old, he laughed at himself for managing to sound as ridiculous as possible. Victoire was laughing too, but he knew she was probably laughing at him rather than with him.

As their laughter tapered off, Ted stared straight ahead into empty space and they both grew quiet. He blinked a few times as a wave of sudden exhaustion caught up to him. He didn't have to work until noon the next day, but the idea of having to go in at all still didn't excite him in the least. He glanced back down at Victoire and noticed she was currently staring at him again. It actually looked as if she was staring through him, as though deep in thought. He forced a quick smile, but she didn't respond to it.

"What's wrong?" he asked as she abruptly snapped out of her daze.

"I…I'm apparently still very drunk," she said slowly, turning away from him as she said it.

He laughed a little. "Just wait for the potion to take its full effect. You'll be fine."

She nodded.

"You're not feeling worse are you?" he asked.

"No, my stomach's feeling better," she said, "but I still feel drowsy. It's hard to think straight."

He made a noncommittal noise, but he didn't say anything. They were both quiet for a long while, which was a strange turn of events. It was a strange sort of quiet which Ted assumed was due to her recovering from the alcohol in her system. It had to be. The two of them rarely had this many quiet moments on any regular occasion, especially considering that they hadn't seen each other in months. He wondered if he was imagining the forced, almost awkward tension in the air or whether it was actually present. As he considered this, the image of her taking her jumper off crossed his mind once again, now accompanied by another pang of excitement. He immediately shook it off. What was wrong with him?

"Hey Ted?"

"Yeah?" he asked quickly. For the briefest of seconds, the idea that she may have somehow just been reading his thoughts gave him a mortified start.

"Do you remember when we were kids and you swore in front of your grandmother and she started screaming at you?"

"When she bewitched the bar of soap to follow me around and scrub my mouth out?"

She nodded.

"Yeah, I do," he said as he smiled a little and thought of his conversation with Albus not too long ago. "I can't even smell that stuff without wanting to be sick." He pulled his knees towards him and started absently picking at his thumb nail. "What made you think of that?"

"I don't know. It just popped into my head. I've been thinking about a lot of random memories of us lately. Remember the time we set fireworks off in my room?"

"And you still have that mark on your ceiling," he said as he thought of the day that he tended to refer to as 'Fireball day.' "That was the dumbest thing we ever did."

She turned back over and faced him, her face earnest. "But it's still a really good memory."

"We've got a lot of those," he said quietly, still not looking at her.

"We really do," she said. "Remember when you got mad at me when I kissed you?"

He glanced at her. He hadn't thought of that in ages. "You mean assaulted me? And yes. I still have the scars."

"Assaulted you?" She laughed as she propped herself up on her elbows again and gawked at him. "And what scars?"

"The emotional ones." He grinned. "And you pinned me on the ground. I think that constitutes assault in many cases. I mean, don't get me wrong, your aggressiveness is something I appreciate in girls nowadays." He went back to focusing on his thumb nail. "I actually enjoy it, but back then it was quite scary—"

"Oh, you're so over dramatic," she said as she rolled her eyes and laughed. "I was just curious what it was like and you of all people know I was a very curious child." She sighed and her smile slowly began to disappear. "I should have known then that every boy I ended up kissing after that would be just as much drama."

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, but she wasn't paying attention to him. So, she had kissed Stuart Reynolds. Elizabeth had been right. He had planned on asking her about that, but he felt as though given the circumstances surrounding the night, it would have been a little insensitive. "Well, you do deserve much better than a little wanker like Stuart Reynolds."

"Do you think so?" she asked, glancing up at him.

He laughed a little and gave her a strange look. Was she really asking him this? "Of course I think so. What kind of stupid question is that? You know you do."

"Obviously I didn't know if I kept trying so hard to go after him."

"Well, you are," he said as he dropped his hand down onto the bed and leaned his head back. "I mean, Vic, you're a beautiful girl who's smart and has a lot going for her. Once you learn to get past fancying these idiots—"

"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" she interrupted.

He stopped and quickly rethought what he had said. The words had just come out without him really thinking about it. Was it odd that he had said that? Should he have not said it? He thought back to the days when Simon had always been the one to offer the best words of consolation to her while he simply sat there nodding in agreement. It definitely sounded like something Simon would have said, but Simon was corny. Simon saying it made sense, whereas he saying it may have seemed odd. Still, it was true, so he couldn't be too far off the mark.

"You know you are," he said without looking at her. "You know all these things I'm telling you."

She smiled at him strangely. He couldn't pinpoint why it was a strange smile, but there was something in her eyes that he didn't feel like he'd ever seen there before.

And just like that, this had become the most awkward conversation the two of them had ever had.

"You're being weird," he said with an awkward laugh.

"Am I?" she asked in all seriousness. He had expected a wisecrack, but instead she was still looking at him like she had been moments before.

"A little," he said as he continued to watch her and wonder what exactly was going on in this instant. He wasn't exactly sure what he should say or do. He felt a little frozen in the moment, though he didn't know why. It almost felt as though the two of them were different people and that a different set of circumstances should be playing out at the moment. He didn't feel as if he was lying next to his oldest friend in the world, but rather someone else. This—on top of the fact that he could not get the image of her taking her damn jumper off of his head—only made him wonder if he was seriously starting to lose it.

He looked away and glanced back down at his finger again. He could feel Victoire look away as well, and he quietly heaved a relieved sigh that the moment had passed.

"I should go," she said suddenly.

"Yeah," he agreed all too quickly. He stood so that Victoire could climb out. Given her body language, she was apparently feeling the peculiarity in the moment too, which only forced him to acknowledge that it really did exist. "Are you okay to…uh—," he couldn't think of the word, "you know?"

"Apparate?"

"Yeah," he said, avoiding her eyes. "You're okay to do that?"

"I think so."

"Okay," he said. "I guess I'll see you later, then."

"Of course," she said as she stepped forward, suddenly hesitated, and then followed through the motions of giving him a hug. He'd been taken slightly by surprise by the gesture. It, just like everything else that had happened, was incredibly awkward. Unless Victoire really did have the power to read his thoughts, he couldn't think of why things were this strange.

"Can I ask you a question?" she asked suddenly.

He looked her in the eyes. If she was going to ask why things were weird, he didn't have an answer for her. He didn't have a clue.

She didn't wait for him to answer. "Have you ever wondered why you and…?" She stopped and seemed to be struggling with something.

"Why I...what?" he asked tentatively.

"You know..." She shook her head. "Nevermind. Goodnight."

He'd barely managed to open his mouth to reply before she'd disappeared with a quick pop. He stared at the spot she had just vanished from before he screwed his face up into utter confusion.

He sat back down on his bed and lazily dropped his head against his hand. Staring straight ahead, he ran the events of the last few minutes over and over again in his mind. What in the hell had just happened?

He lay back on his bed and began vigorously rubbing his eyes. He certainly hoped that Victoire hadn't suddenly developed the power to read minds without bothering to tell him.


	19. Dinner with the Weasleys

Ted ended up giving very little thought to what had happened on Saturday night in the days that followed. After he convinced himself that the weirdness could be attributed to Victoire being drunk and him being overly tired, he'd stopped worrying about it. After all, things were bound to be a bit goofy once all of those elements got mixed together. It was no big deal.

Mostly though, he hadn't had the time to think about it. Things at work were keeping him exceptionally busy and left him little time to think of anything else. A bout of some sort of bizarre poisoning had kept everyone in the lab up to their ears in antidotes and potions through the weekend, and by the time his Monday morning shift rolled around, Ted had actually felt almost naked without a cauldron in front him. He'd spent that much time hunched over one lately.

At the end of that very same Monday shift, he had received an unexpected memo from Healer Pullman requesting an emergency meeting that very day at noon. An emergency meeting? He had groaned after reading that. Apparently, someone out there found it hilarious to schedule meetings right at the very end of his shifts so that he could spend even more of his time at this hospital.

As he made his way up to the tearoom, where the meeting was to be held, he desperately hoped things would be quick. At this rate, he'd be lucky to get four hours of sleep in before he had to meet his grandmother and then meet at the Weasleys' for dinner.

He pushed the door to the tea room open and noticed Nate sitting with Hazel, Orilis, Brina, and Ebins at a table near the window. With the exception of Ebins, all of them were in their street clothes and looked as if they'd just arrived. He stepped into the room just as the door behind him swung open once more and Elizabeth entered behind him. She, too, looked as if she'd been working all night and gave him a tired smile.

"Hey," she said as she started walking straight towards the coffee. "You have any idea what this is about?"

He shook his head and followed her. He hadn't seen Elizabeth much since their conversation about the night they had been together, but that wasn't to say things between them were anything short of cordial. They coincidentally were just scheduled different shifts, and the ones they did happen to share, he didn't feel the need to dawdle around as he used to. He had stopped making excuses to go downstairs as much, but when he did run into her, she was just as sweet as she'd always been. He'd even noticed it was easier to talk to her these days, though, he had a feeling that had everything to do with the fact that he now didn't have the constant urge to impress her.

"Did you work all night?" she asked as she helped herself to coffee.

He nodded wearily.

She threw him a funny look. "Not talking today?"

He smiled lazily and shook his head.

She nodded and blew on her coffee to cool it. She stepped out of the way so that Ted could help himself just as he was reminded of something he'd actually been meaning to tell her.

"Oh, I have something to tell you."

She sipped from her cup and stared at him.

"Remember how you asked me if Stuart had a thing with Victoire, and I told you I didn't know?"

"Uh-huh."

"They did."

She lowered her cup and her expression turned extremely curious. "Oh, really?"

He filled up his coffee cup. "I saw her the other day and she told me," he said, half lying. He'd obviously heard all of this information over the course of the last few months, but now that he knew Victoire was done with Stuart and out of line of fire, he had no problem filling in the details.

"So, he lied," Elizabeth said as her face tightened up a little bit. "He lied to Dave about chasing her and he lied to me about lying to Dave." She pursed her lips.

Ted nodded. "Yep."

"Oh, Mr. Reynolds and I are going to have some words," she muttered coldly, her mind clearly elsewhere. "I mean just the other day…" She trailed off and shook her head. Ted wasn't exactly sure why it really mattered to her whether or not he was lying, but she obviously had her reasons. He'd done his part, and if it meant Stuart was going to get what was coming to him, then all the better. After all, he had made Victoire cry.

"I figured you'd be interested," he said as he turned to walk over to where everyone else was sitting. They were currently waving the two of them over just as Ted noticed that Healer Pullman had arrived accompanied by Herbertson. Neither of them looked as though they wanted to be there.

"Just a really quick meeting," Pullman said as Ted silently cheered this revelation. Quick meetings were good. Quick meetings meant he'd be sleeping in fifteen minutes.

Pullman glanced at Herbertson, who was looking bored. In fact, Ted wasn't sure he'd ever seen his boss look pleased with wherever he currently was. He cleared his breath. "Change of plans."

"About Russia?" Hazel asked as she glanced around the group. Given the people in attendance, this was clearly what the meeting was about.

"You'll be leaving tomorrow around midday instead of at the end of the month," he said dismissively.

A chorus of, "What?" and "Tomorrow?" rang through the group. Ted felt as though someone had smacked him across the face. Tomorrow? They had to go tomorrow?

"I know it's short notice," Pullman said, sounding far more sympathetic than Herbertson had, "but the Russians have had some changes in their schedule and they can't accommodate us when we were supposed to go. They've invited us to come for the following week instead."

Ted's face somehow managed to fall even further than it had moments before. His birthday happened to be this week. So, not only did he get to spend Christmas in Russia, but his birthday, too. This news was only getting worse and worse.

"The Portkey has been arranged for around one in the afternoon tomorrow and we've managed to move shifts and schedules around," Pullman added. "Sorry."

Everyone around the table looked either aggravated or despondent at the news. Not one among them looked excited by the change, and their displeasure was more than apparent.

"Sorry, again," Pullman said with a sympathetic shrug as she turned to leave. Being the bearer of bad news, she didn't seem to want to hang around any longer than necessary. Herbertson, however, didn't seem to care. He had an attitude that simply stated, "Suck it up."

"Tomorrow at one," he said before turning on his heels. "Do not be late."

"Bollocks," Nate muttered as both Ebins and Orilis stood and left without a word. Elizabeth grumpily mumbled something that Ted couldn't decipher before she walked off, and Hazel sat vacantly staring out into space. Only Brina seemed to be trying to make the best of things.

She shrugged. "It's still a good opportunity."

Nate gave her patronizing look just as Ted let out an aggravated groan. "This is crap."

"Tell me about it," Nate said.

He sat down in the chair that Ebins had just vacated. "And I've got plans tonight. I don't have time to sit and pack and…" He sighed. "Shit."

"Looks like you'll be canceling," Nate said heavily.

"I can't," he said. "It's like a big family get-together thing." He suddenly thought of how he'd yet to even see James since he'd gotten back from school for the holiday. "I have to go."

"Are you going to hang out with Harry Potter?" Nate asked with a sudden hint of interest in his face.

Ted stared at him. This was becoming a far too common topic of conversation between the two of them. Ever since Nate had found out, he continuously kept bringing up whether or not Ted was going to see Harry and when or where this might occur. It'd gotten to the point where he'd told Nate he would introduce him simply to shut him up.

"Actually, I am," Ted said. "We're having dinner with some of his family."

He seemed even more interested in this. "Lucky you."

"He's not a celebrity to me," Ted mumbled.

"But he is to the rest of us, though. I mean, how many people can say they've had dinner with Harry Potter?"

"Loads," he said sarcastically. "Believe it or not, he has to eat."

"Still," Nate said in a distant, almost whimsical tone, "it'd be really cool. I don't even remember the last time I had a decent meal."

Ted rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what Nate was trying to do. He also knew he was full of shit and that his attempts to fish for an invitation to come along were almost funny.

"Plus, it's not as if I have anything to do tonight," Nate continued. He wasn't even attempting to hide his smile now. He knew what he was doing and he seemed perfectly accepting of the fact that it was borderline begging.

"Shouldn't you be packing?" Ted asked.

"I can do that in ten minutes."

"So, you're saying you want me to invite you to some family dinner, which will honestly not be half as exciting as you seem to think it will be."

"Well, if you're inviting me…"

"What's to make me think that you won't make me look like an idiot?" Ted asked as he sat back in his chair. "The idea of you going all super fan on Harry is pretty much the worst thing I could possibly conceive happening."

Nate looked insulted. "I would never. I'm only kidding most of the time when I say those things," he paused, "although, I would really like to meet him. I'd be on my best behavior. I'm twenty-two-years-old, not twelve."

Ted stared at him. He wasn't convinced.

"Look, you don't have to," he continued, "but it has been a lifelong dream of mine to meet Harry Potter—"

"Aren't you a Muggleborn?"

"Okay, it's been a dream of mine since I was eleven," he corrected. "Let's not argue semantics."

Ted stared at him with a stone faced expression, but still found himself considering this. The fact was, he wasn't especially worried about Nate embarrassing him. It would finally shut him up if he did actually introduce him to Harry. Plus, friends and random people were always popping in on Weasley family festivities, so it wasn't as if inviting him would be imposing on anyone. It was just more that matter of whether or not he wanted to put up with him.

"I'll talk you up as the cleverest person I know," Nate offered. "I'll tell everyone whatever you want me to."

"You seriously want to go that bad?"

He shrugged and nodded. "Yeah. Why not? Sounds like fun."

Ted sighed heavily. "I have no idea why I'm saying this, but…fine." He pointed at him. "I swear though, I will hex you if you act like a moron."

"Best behavior," he said as he crossed his heart. "I promise. So, what time's dinner? Where do I need to be?"

"At my flat," Ted mumbled as he continued to wonder if this was such a good idea. "Around six. We'll go from there."

Nate nodded. "Fantastic. Now I just need to figure out what does one wear to meet Harry Potter?"

"I hear dress robes are in order," Ted said dryly. "Top hat, tails, the works. He gets a real kick out of it."

Nate shook his head and smiled. "Now you're just trying to make me look stupid."

Hours later, both Ted and Nate landed on the lawn of Ted's grandmother's house at a little after six-thirty. They were supposed to have been there a half an hour earlier, but Ted had been caught up attempting to get as much packing done as possible. Nate had actually been on time, so Ted couldn't even blame him for their tardiness. As much as he'd like to.

"This isn't the place, right?" Nate asked as he looked out towards the pond on the perimeter of the property.

Ted shook his head as he marched up to the house. He was hoping he wouldn't have to hear too much complaint from his grandmother given how late they were, but he wouldn't be surprised if he did. He hated when people were late, which was a trait he'd inherited from her. She detested when people were late.

"Lovely home," Nate said as Ted knocked once on the front door before pushing it open. "Really nice, actually. You said you grew up here?"

"Uh-huh," he answered before he entered and looked straight into the living room. His grandmother was sitting in her favorite chair and flipping through an issue of Witches Weekly. She glanced up at him over the top of the magazine. He instantly forced an apologetic smile.

"You're late," she said.

"I know."

"I was giving you another two minutes before I went on ahead without you," she said one she stood and straightened out her robes.

"I'm sorry," he said as he turned to Nate standing behind him. He was smiling politely and stepped forward with his hand outstretched.

"Hello Mrs..." His speech tapered off and he glanced at Ted for clarification. "Lup…?"

"Tonks," he and his grandmother said at the same time. She put her hand out and Nate took it.

"Nathaniel Connolly," he said politely.

"Charmed," she said a little curtly as she gave Ted a look that said she was still quite miffed by his tardiness. "Shall we go? We can get better acquainted once we've actually arrived."

"Absolutely," Ted said as his grandmother breezed past him. He and Nate made eye contact and, in that split-second, Ted was very happy to have him there. With another person there, his grandmother would just act curt and annoyed. If it had been just the two of them, he'd be getting an earful. "Here," he added to Nate as his grandmother disappeared with a pop. "It'll be quicker if you just Side-Along instead of me telling you where to go."

"Is your grandmother angry?"

"She'll get over it," he said, reaching out to grab Nate's forearm. "Hold on." They Apparated on the spot to the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole, just a few yards away from a looming and unique looking home that was currently billowing smoke from its chimney. His grandmother was already stalking off towards the house while Nate and Ted still attempted to gather their bearings. Nate was looking up at the house with extreme interest, but Ted was already hustling to catch up with her.

"Seriously," Ted said once he slowed down to let Nate catch up. "You cannot act starstruck here. I'm being dead serious. Harry's like a father to me and he doesn't like the excess attention as it is, so do me that favor."

"He's a regular guy," Nate said. "No problem. I'll be cool."

Ted let out an exhausted sigh as he reached the door to the Weasleys' kitchen right behind his grandmother. He could hear the welcoming greetings of several voices as they entered.

"Hello," his grandmother said to everyone. "I'm so sorry we're late."

"Oh, nonsense, Andromeda," said Molly Weasley as she placed several bowls onto the table and turned to greet the new guests. "Dinner's only just ready. You have perfect timing."

"Did you cut your hair?" Ginny suddenly asked her as Ted fully entered the room and smiled around to everyone standing there. Ginny and Molly both seemed focused on his grandmother, but Hermione caught Ted's eye and smiled at him. She turned away a moment later and said something to someone, though he couldn't tell who due to a stack of napkins piled in front of their face. In the next second, whoever it was had shuffled out of the kitchen without a word.

"Just a little something different, I suppose," his grandmother was saying.

Ginny smiled at her before turning her focus onto Ted, which quickly brought her to Nate. "Oh, hello there," she said.

"Hello," Nate said in the overly polite sounding tone that he reserved for any and all women. "Nathaniel Connolly."

"Nate and I work together," Ted said as everyone in the room took him in. "This is Molly, Ginny, and that's Hermione."

"So nice of you to come," Molly said pleasantly. "The more the merrier, of course."

Nate was grinning and trying not to stare at either Ginny or Hermione, who Ted was sure he'd read all about a hundred times. However, his attention was quickly distracted when in walked Harry and Ron. Ted could feel Nate immediately straighten his posture out and inhale sharply from beside him.

"We were wondering what was keeping you," Harry said with a smile, just as Ginny handed him a stack of silverware. He glanced down at it. "I thought you were bringing this out?"

She smiled. "Yes, but you came back."

"Harry," Ted said with a quick look at Nate. He might as well get this over with. "This is my friend Nate. Nate, this is Harry. Right behind him is Ron."

Ron gave a quick wave before he and Hermione grabbed what was left of the table settings and turned to take them back outside. Harry grinned politely while Ginny attempted to pile more things into his arms. "Hello."

Nate looked as if he wanted to shake Harry's hand, but obviously couldn't with Harry's hands being full. "It's really nice to meet you…um, sir. A pleasure, actually."

Ginny smiled at Harry before rounding her smile on Ted. He was cringing ever so slightly at the formality of Nate's greeting, but it could have been a lot worse. Harry didn't seem to even notice.

"Okay, plenty of things to take outside," Molly said as she gestured around the room to all the bowls and trays that were filled with food. "Take it, take it. Everyone take something."

"You two can get those heavy ones," Ginny said to Ted and Nate as she pointed at several large serving trays.

They grabbed at what they were instructed to take before the group made their way outside. One out into the cool evening, Ted was immediately met by the entire collection Weasleys standing about and getting ready for dinner. He hadn't seen the lot of them together in ages; it was nearly impossible to get everyone together at once these days. It reminded him of being much smaller. Back when these sorts of dinners were far more frequent.

"Glad to see you could make it," Harry said as he and Ted walked to the nearest table to set their things down. "You've seemed like the invisible man lately."

"Because I am," he said as Nate came up beside them and looked slightly lost as to where he should put his tray down. "And guess what? I get to run off to Russia tomorrow instead of next week."

"What?"

"I'm pretty annoyed about it, actually," Ted mumbled.

"I will take that," said Fleur Weasley as she appeared from what seemed like thin air to take Nate's serving tray, which he enthusiastically handed off. "'Harry, will you cut this?"

"Uh, sure," he said distractedly before giving Ted one last concerned look. "This conversation isn't over yet."

"Hey, Ted!" shouted someone. He turned towards the source of the voice and saw that it belonged to Louis Weasley. He and Victoire were standing just across the garden and staring in his direction.

"Who's the blonde?" Nate asked with a quick nudge.

Ted didn't realize who he had meant until he noticed Nate staring directly at Victoire. She was slowly walking behind her brother and headed in their direction. It should have come as no surprise that Nate would have zoned in on her so quickly.

"No." Ted said frankly.

"No, what?"

"No, don't even entertain the thought you're entertaining," he said matter-of-factly before he walked off to meet the other two. "Just…No."

"What's up, mate?" Louis said pleasantly as he greeted him and met him halfway between a handshake and a hug. Victoire came up behind and smiled, but her smile seemed strangely forced.

"Not much," Ted said. "It's good to see you." He glanced at Victoire and returned her smile. He was hoping they could manage to smooth over whatever weirdness they'd had the other night and get back to normal. "Hey, Vic."

"Hey," she said.

"It's been ages," Louis said as he crossed his arms in front of him and looked at Nate. He automatically stuck out his hand. "Hi, I'm Louis."

"Nathaniel," he said as he shook it.

"We work together," said Ted.

"Ted here was kind enough to invite me over for dinner, seeing as I've been living off of cans of beans and toast for the last few weeks."

Louis shrugged. "The more the merrier."

"Hey, long time no see, weirdo," said a voice as Ted suddenly felt himself being pushed in Dominique's all too familiar way of saying hello.

"Aww," he joked as he turned and playfully pushed her back. "I've missed you, too." He gestured to Nate. "Nicki, this is Nate."

Dominique looked him up and down and didn't seem very impressed, but waved regardless. "Hello there."

"Nice to meet you," Nate said as he turned his gaze back on Victoire. He seemed most keen on being introduced to her.

Ted sighed. "And this is Victoire."

Nate straightened up and smiled as though he was bent on being as flirtatious as possible. He leaned forward to take her hand just as Ted caught Louis's eye. He seemed to be silently asking him who the hell this guy was.

"It's an absolute pleasure to meet you," he said in the most over the top sounding tone Ted could possibly fathom anyone actually using. He almost wanted to laugh, but instead he watched Victoire's face. He was hoping with all hope that she thought this was as funny as he did, and a part of him really would have liked her to laugh at his attempt. Of course she didn't. She simply smiled as if she was used to this sort of thing, which, the more Ted thought about it, the more he realized that she probably was used to the sort of thing. The whole awestruck idiot queuing up to meet her was probably just another day for her.

"Nice to meet you," she said politely as she glanced at Ted. He looked away, thinking he would laugh if he didn't. He had thought he caught a glimmer of amusement in her eyes, though.

"Dinner's over here, gang," Arthur Weasley called as everyone began scattering around the table and looking to get situated. Ted immediately zoned in on James, who was talking with his brother and cousins, Hugo and Freddie. As he passed the group of boys on his way to the table, Ted reached out and affectionately grabbed James.

"I haven't seen you in months and you don't even come say hello," said Ted. "What's that about?"

"I didn't see you," said James as he took a few steps to catch up to him. "Wait, save me a seat. I have things I want to tell you."

"Save me one, too!" Albus said.

"Wait, I want to sit next to Al!" Hugo called over the group as Freddie also clamored to get the seat he wanted. Ted was more than happy to watch them fight that out for themselves, but was distracted when Lily called his name. She was standing up on the bench of the table and was almost level height with him.

"Hi," she said, putting her arms out as if she wanted a hug.

"Hi, Lil." He hugged her and lifted her up swiftly before setting her back down. "How have you been?"

"Okay," she said. "Will you sit next to me?"

"My, my," said Ginny as she attempted to get Lily situated, "aren't you popular?"

Ted smiled as the familiar sounds of James and Albus arguing over the mundane filled his ears. It only took a few combination harsh looks from Harry, who had sat across from Ted and the boys, and Ginny, who Ted always thought was far scarier when it came to cross looks, for them to calm down and eat their dinner in peace.

The atmosphere for dinner had been fairly picturesque, what with the sun setting right in the middle of the meal and allowing darkness began filling the sky. Ted said little since James seemed to be the one doing most of the talking. He was addressing the group as if no one there had ever been to Hogwarts, and was telling them every last detail about everything he'd seen, heard, learned, or encountered while at school. Harry kept throwing Ted amused smiles through the course of James's lecture, while all of the adults within earshot continued to humor James by asking questions that they already knew the answers to. The other kids seemed completely enamored with everything James had to say, particularly Albus.

As it were, Nate did actually come through on his promise to behave himself. He spent most of dinner talking with George Weasley and his wife, Angelina, as well as having a perfectly normal conversation about being an Auror with Harry and Ron. The more and more time passed, the more comfortable Ted felt with having invited him. He was even making due on his promise to talk Ted up to everyone he encountered, even though Ted hadn't asked him to.

"Can we go play?" Freddie asked once everyone began finishing up and idle after dinner chatter fell over the group. Angelina examined his plate and nodded as if saying he could. Just like that, the other kids began finishing up as quickly as possible so that they, too, could go play.

"Awl dwon," Albus said with his mouth full. He held up his empty plate to show his father. "Khan I gwo?"

"Yeah, go on," Harry said as he shook his head and glanced from his youngest son to his oldest. James didn't even bother to ask to be excused. He just stuffed his face with the rest of his food and jumped up to follow his brother.

"Here, let's help clean up," Hermione said as everyone began slowly whipping out their wands and doing a massive overhaul on the table.

"Can I help?" Nate offered. Ginny shook her head and claimed that there were plenty of hands and not to worry. She gestured to Ted not to worry either and everyone at the table soon disappeared with either their hands full or their wands raised, leaving only Nate and Ted to sit and watch the kids running around in the yard.

"That was fantastic," Nate said. "And see, what did I tell you? I was completely well behaved." He stretched his arms. "You were worried."

"Well, I appreciate it," Ted said as he glanced across the yard and noticed Victoire laughing about something with both Louis and Dominique. They were all hovering right outside the house, and Ted found himself curious as to what they were talking about the longer he watched.

"So, you still haven't told me what the deal is with her," Nate said, following Ted's gaze.

"There is no deal with her."

"You seemed pretty adamant about it earlier."

He sighed and looked up at the large tree branches that were covering him overhead. "Because, and I mean this with as little offense as possible, but…" he shrugged, "she can do waaaaaaay better than you."

Nate made a face. "Oh, piss off."

Ted smirked. "I'm not trying to be a prick. I just know how she is. Trust me, it's not worth it. You'd be wasting your time."

"What's wrong with her?"

"Who said I was talking about her."

"Oh, so I'm the problem?"

"Honestly," Ted said in an attempt to sound honest, but tactful at the same time. "Look at her." He pointed in the direction Victoire had been standing in, but she'd since disappeared into the house. "She's probably got, at any given time, about a hundred blokes who would kill to talk to her. I've seen it. She's in a different league. Plus, she's way too young for you."

"She's legal, right? It's not as if I'm looking for a relationship. I'd just be looking for some quick fun."

Something in Ted gave a start as Nate said this. He turned and glared at him. "She's my best friend."

Nate looked at him, his expression thoughtful. "I'm just being honest, mate."

"And I'm just being honest when I tell you I will punch you in the face if you talk about her like that." He turned away. He'd never gotten into a real fight a day in his life, but for some reason, he figured he could hit someone if he had to. Though, he hoped the threat itself was enough.

"Hey, sorry," Nate said as he sat forward. "I didn't realize she was…Honestly, no disrespect."

Realizing that he must have easily sounded overly hostile, Ted rubbed his eyes and sighed. "I didn't mean to go all mental on you and threaten you or whatever, it's just—"

"No, I get it," he said. "I should have realized you two are close and here I am just running my mouth like it's some random girl in a pub. I was out of line."

Ted shrugged and glanced up at the house where everyone was finishing with the cleaning and venturing into the living room to continue the evening. "No hard feelings."

"None here," Nate said blankly.

Ted stood and gestured for him to follow. "Come on. You want a drink?"

He smirked a little. "I think I might need one after getting threatened by Ted Lupin."

A begrudging smile crawled across Ted's face as Nate stood and they both started walking towards the crowded house. Night had fully fallen over the sky, and the sound of crickets and laughing children filled the air in a melodic sort of way. It only reminded Ted of how quickly summer would be here.

"Hey," Nate said in an absent manner. "Do you have a thing for her?"

Ted looked at him as if he had no idea what he was talking about. "What?"

"Your friend," he asked as he nodded towards the house. "Are you two…?"

"No," he said quickly, wondering where on earth Nate would have gotten that idea from.

"Oh," Nate said once they reached the house. "I was just checking."


	20. Hide and Go Seek

Inside the Weasleys' living room, Ron was currently recounting a recent investigation in Bath that he and several of the other Aurors had been on to the great amusement of everyone else listening. Ted had to admit that it was a homey sort of feeling being around everyone as they laughed and enjoyed being together. It was also rare these days, what with everyone being so busy. This was the kind of atmosphere that Ted didn't realize how much he enjoyed until he was back in the thick of it. Being around the people he'd known his entire life, and who had practically taken him in as part of their family, had a tendency to make him remember who he was.

"And this idiot," Ron was saying from the sofa, "he pulls out his wand and says he'll curse us all if we take one step closer, but he'd completely forgotten that he'd called on us in the first place. Mad as a hatter…"

The room let out a cheerful laugh as George Weasley appeared next to where Ted was sitting on an ottoman with Nate.

"You boys want some firewhiskey?" He held up a bottle.

Nate politely declined, having already had one. Ted shook his head. "I'm good with just the tea, but thanks, George."

"Do you not drink, Teddy?"

Nate snickered a little. Ted hadn't warned him that pretty much everyone here called him Teddy. The repeated mentioning of it seemed to only be getting funnier to him.

"I do, just not that. I got sick off it as a kid once," he stopped as he suddenly remembered, "coincidentally enough, at your wedding, George. That was the night."

George looked as though a light had just gone off in his head. "I do remember that! I put my drink down and you thought it was juice or something so you picked it up. Oh, Merlin's beard, did Dromeda let me have it. Ginny and Harry hadn't been too pleased, either."

"What did I do?" Andromeda called from across the room, having heard her name.

"We were just talking about the time Teddy here got sick at my wedding off the firewhiskey when he couldn't have been older than maybe seven." His grandmother's face grew stoney as she, too, looked as if she was recalling the events in her mind. George, however, just laughed. "Looking back it's pretty funny though, isn't it?"

"I remember that, too," said Bill Weasley, who was sitting just a few feet away on an armchair. "Victoire had come running up to me claiming that you"—he pointed at Ted— "were dying and that we needed to go to the hospital straight away."

"I was pretty sick," Ted said with a small grin as Nate nudged him. He was gesturing to a pipe in his hands.

"Can I smoke this?"

"You smoke?" he asked. "And from a pipe?"

"Sometimes." He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

"It just seems so old mannish," he said before glancing through a nearby window. "I'd go outside, if I were you."

Nate nodded and stood. Ted pointed him back towards the kitchen so that he could find his way out into the garden on his own. Once he had gone, he turned back to take in the rest of the room. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all talking together on one sofa, while his Grams sat talking with Molly and Angelina on the other. Arthur was leading some sort of discussion about Muggle car restoration that kept getting interrupted by Percy and his various facts about Muggle artifact protocol via the Ministry—George was rolling his eyes at him as he listened. Lastly, Bill and Fleur were talking to Ginny just feet in front of him.

"It has all been arranged," Fleur was saying. "They are very excited."

"And all three of them are going?" Ginny asked. "Gabrielle's brave to take in three teenagers."

"Oh, no," Fleur said. "She is very much looking forward to it."

"The girls arguing would be what would give her the most trouble," said Bill. "If they happen to be getting along though, they'll be no problem."

"Well, how many weeks?" Ginny asked. "They'll be back for the World Cup, won't they?"

"Nothing will ever get between Nicki and Quidditch," Bill said. "She'd swim back across the Channel if she had to."

"Probably four or five," Fleur answered.

"Wait," Ted said as he interjected himself into their conversation. "Who's going where?"

"Victoire hasn't told you?"

He shook his head.

"Oh, well, they are going to Marseilles for the summer," Fleur said. "Right after school is finished, they are headed to visit my sister and her family for several weeks."

Ted was fairly surprised to hear this. He was even more surprised to have heard it from Victoire's mother instead of from her. "Wow. Yeah, Victoire didn't tell me about that."

It was now Bill and Fleur's turn to look surprised. Bill muttered, "Funny. At home, she hasn't stopped talking about it ever since she found out a few days ago."

Ted slowly shook his head as he looked away and processed this. She'd known this for days now and she hadn't mentioned it? It wasn't as if he cared about the news itself, but it was more the issue that Victoire would have usually come bustling up to him first thing, full of excited energy and ready to brag. She would have begun sprouting off all the plans she was already making for her trip before he would be able get a word in edgewise. She would—like her father said—be talking about it non stop. Instead, not only had she not mentioned it, but she'd barely spoken to him all night.

He looked around the room and confirmed what he already knew to be the case, but hadn't yet acknowledged. She wasn't there. She was likely outside, but was she outside because she was avoiding him? Had the weirdness of the other night freaked her out so much that she was distancing herself? How could that be? Things had been weird, yes, but it hadn't been anything that bad. Had it? Had he missed something?

Ginny, Fleur, and Bill were now all talking about something that had happened at the Daily Prophet earlier that day and seemed oblivious to Ted still sitting there. He took the opportunity to stand and head towards the kitchen. He needed to talk to Victoire. All of this weirdness had to end.

Pushing the door to the garden open, he was instantly inundated by the loud sounds of laughter, yelling, and some screaming. The kids seemed to be having a ball, and, as it were, it was a good thing the Weasleys didn't have any immediate neighbors. They would certainly be none too happy with the noise if they did.

He barely paid attention to the kids, though. Instead, his eyes had gone straight across the garden to where Victoire and Nate were sitting at one of the picnic tables talking; she was on the table top and he was on the bench below. He supposed he couldn't blame Nate for going straight over there, seeing as Victoire would have been on her own. However, he couldn't fight off the sudden twinge of annoyance that was nagging at the back of his head at just seeing them together. For one, he knew that no matter what Nate claimed he would do, he wasn't one to give up so easily if a pretty girl happened to be in sight. Second, it was hard not to feel slighted that Victoire didn't seem to have a problem talking to a practical stranger, yet felt the need to avoid him.

He shoved his hands into his pocket and crossed the yard towards them. "What's going on?"

"Oh, just talking," Nate said, smiling up at him. "Telling her about work and what we do."

He glanced at Victoire. "You must be riveted, Vic."

She forced a smile and turned away in the direction of where Dominique's loud voice was carrying over the group. She hadn't said a word and could barely hold eye contact with him, which probably meant he had done something wrong. But what? He searched his mind for something he may have said or done the other night, but there was nothing. He couldn't remember a damn thing that would have caused her to actually be mad at him.

He glanced back at the kids. They were running around and chasing each other while some of the boys were busy tackling each other to the ground. Given the current situation, Ted couldn't help but be reminded about how easy life was when he was a kid. Back then, when he and Victoire had a problem with each other, they'd just scream it out in the lawn until they were too tired or hoarse to care anymore.

"Remember when we were little," Ted said to her in an attempt to evoke some reaction out of bringing up the past, "we used to blow out the lanterns and run around playing hide and seek in the dark?"

She smiled, but didn't take her eyes off the kids. "Yeah, that was fun."

"Those were the days," he said as Nate started dumping some tobacco remnants from his pipe on the ground. A gnome, who happened to be sticking his head up out of the ground, suddenly got a head full of tobacco.

"I should get home and pack," he said to Ted. "I still haven't even started."

"I still have more to do," Ted said as Victoire finally turned back towards them.

"Where are you going?"

"Russia," Nate said quickly, "for a week. We're meeting with the leading expert on dragon pox out there. We've been work arduously with them for several months now—"

"I've mentioned it to her," Ted interrupted before Nate could really get going. The last thing he felt like listening to right now was Nate attempting to sound more impressive and important than necessary.

Nate smiled. "We leave tomorrow."

"Wow," she said with her eyes dead set on Ted. "You didn't mention you were off to Russia so soon."

He stared down at the disgruntled gnome, who looked as though it was trying to figure out a way to bite Nate's ankle. He wanted to say how she was really one to talk about not bothering to mention sudden trips to other countries, but thought better of it. "It was sudden."

"We just heard today," Nate added as he stood up and began dusting tobacco off of his robes. "I'm going to go and thank everyone for the lovely evening."

"I'll walk you out," Ted said as he turned on his heel towards the house. He'd already walked several steps away before noticing that Nate hadn't followed. He looked back over his shoulder and he saw that Nate was currently saying goodbye to Victoire.

Involuntarily, Ted rolled his eyes. He was positioned too far away to hear what they were saying—and could only barely read their body language with the garden's sole source of light streaming from some weak glowing lanterns—but he was sure Nate was pouring it on thick. Ted could only see his back, but he could easily picture his cheesy smile and some terrible line about how it was, "such an amazing pleasure to meet a girl like you…" blah, blah, blah.

However, it was Victoire's reaction that currently confused him. She was smiling at Nate and they were shaking hands for much longer than normal. Ted blinked a few times as he watched. She had to be kidding. The idea of Victoire buying into Nate's bullshit…His mind went blank just thinking about it. He grimaced before turning around and walking towards the house. He couldn't watch that.

Once he entered the kitchen, it only took Nate a few extra moments to follow after with a pleasant smile sprawled across his face. Ted didn't return it once they made eye contact, but Nate didn't seem to notice.

"I appreciate you inviting me," Nate said.

"Uh-huh," Ted said as he watched Nate walk towards the living room and disappear inside. He assumed he should probably follow to be polite, but instead hung back and leaned against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed. It only took Nate a minute to return with Molly Weasley in tow to show him out. She was telling him it had been very nice to meet him, and quickly smiled at Ted as Nate reached the door.

"See you tomorrow, Lupin," he said as he pulled the door open and walked outside.

"That you will," Ted said as he reached out to grab the door handle.

"Thanks again for everything," he added to Molly, "and have a good—"

"Goodnight, then," Ted muttered as he shut the door before Nate could finish. Molly looked at him curiously, but he merely shrugged. "It slipped."

She nodded slowly. She seemed too tired to push the matter. "Are the kids all right outside?"

He nodded and gestured back to the garden door. "I was just going back out there. I'll keep an eye on them."

"Thank you, Teddy."

"Not a problem," he said as he walked back outside. This time, he wasn't barraged by the sudden influx of noise, but rather a calm quiet. All of the kids were lying about the yard in small groups, talking amongst themselves.

"Giving up, then?" Ted asked as he walked over to where James was trying—and succeeding—to sit on Freddie Weasley. Hugo and Albus were watching in a giggly sort of way.

"We were trying to think of another game," said Albus as he plopped himself on the ground.

"What about hide and go seek?" Ted suggested, turning to his right where Dominique was watching them. "You can play the way we used to play."

"Oh, I don't think they can handle that," Louis joked from a few yards away.

James's face instantly looked challenged. "I can. Maybe they can't, but I can. I'm not a baby."

"I can, too!" said Freddie as he managed to push James off of him. "How did you play?"

Ted grinned. "See those lanterns right there?" He pointed to the lanterns hanging from the tree. "You blow them all out and you play in the pitch dark."

"But how can you find anyone?" Albus asked.

"That's what makes it hard," Dominique said obviously.

"I don't like the dark much," Hugo said as he sat down on the ground.

"I don't mind it," James said as he puffed his chest out. "I want to play. Anyone else want to play?"

"I do!" said Freddie. Albus and Hugo seemed to be struggling with whether they did or not, though, it only took one look from James for Albus to agree. Once he was on, Hugo was quick to join as well.

"What about you girls?" Ted called out to where Lily was sitting with Freddie's sister, Roxanne; Hugo's sister, Rose; and then Percy's daughters, Molly and Lucy. "Do you all want to play hide and seek in the dark?"

"Okay!" said Lily and Roxanne almost immediately.

"Isn't that dangerous?" asked Rose. "Someone could hurt themselves running around in the dark."

"Well, you'd have to be careful," Louis said. "Keep your hands out in front of you, not run too fast. All of that."

"But what if someone leaves the yard and gets lost?" Molly asked as she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

"You can't leave the yard," Ted said matter-of-factly. "No way, no how." He gestured between Dominique and Louis. "We've played this game a hundred times before as kids and we all turned out okay."

"It'll be fun," Lily encouraged, speaking to a still hesitant looking Rose.

"Stop being such a baby, Rosie," James mumbled.

Her eyes flashed and narrowed on him. "Shut up, James."

"Make me."

"Stop it," Dominique said as she rolled her eyes. "Stop it or you're all going inside."

Louis laughed. "Can we make them do that?"

"I can make these rugrats do anything."

Hugo made a face. "Can not."

"You especially," she said pointing at him. "All I have to do is tell your mum you're out here playing too rough, and off you go."

"Okay, okay," Ted said, holding up his hands to silence everyone. He didn't know what Dominique hoped to achieve by arguing with nine and ten-year-olds, but he wasn't going to let it continue if he could help it. "So, you all need to sort out who's 'it' and who's hiding first."

"Are you going to play, too?" Lily asked.

"I don't think that would be very fair." Ted reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand for her to see. A sudden beam of light came streaming out of the tip and he pointed it at her. "I can cheat."

"But you wouldn't!"

"I don't know," he teased before flipping his wand towards the lanterns across the yard. There were six of them that he'd have to extinguish. The kids had begun attempting to figure out who was playing and who was 'it,' as he walked over and set to work. Holding his wand up to each lantern, one by one, each went out until complete darkness filled the garden. There was no moon out tonight and the only visible light was being emitted from the house in the form of a soft orange glow. Those kids were going to have a hard time getting around in this.

"Lumos," he mumbled as he heard Victoire do the same. A beam of light from where she would have been sitting suddenly cascaded across the garden, which, along with his own wand light and the glow from the house, was all he could see. He stuck his hand out just inches in front of his face and could barely trace the outline of it.

"I'm keeping mine on," Victoire said, "as a point of reference so no one gets lost."

"I am, too," he agreed as her beam of light suddenly targeted him. He squinted once the light met his eyes. "So, if anyone gets scared or can't make their way around, follow the light."

"Or just yell," Dominique added from somewhere in the darkness.

"And you cannot leave the garden," Ted repeated. "Is that clear?"

"Yes," said several voices in mixed unison. He was close to asking, "Is that clear, James?" knowing that if anyone felt like being a rebel it would have been him, but at that exact moment James called out, "Okay, I'm 'it' first! I'm going to start counting, so go and hide." There was a brief pause and a shuffling of feet before he added, "One…two…"

The sounds of laughter and footsteps could be heard in every direction as Ted felt the presence of several people rush past him. He suddenly wondered if this wasn't exactly his brightest idea ever. This group was far larger than when he used to play, not to mention that his group had also generally been well behaved. Sure, Dominique had had a tendency to play tricks on them to be funny, or pretend to be lost well after everyone else was found, but Ted had a feeling that she had nothing on what James Potter or Freddie Weasley were capable of given a little freedom and darkness.

He looked straight ahead to where Victoire's light was penetrating through the darkness and trailing across the ground. Playing with the kids had momentarily distracted him from the task at hand. He took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. It was better to go into this acting oblivious so he could feel her out. Actually, he had no choice but to go into this obliviously, because he didn't know what the problem was.

"I'm going to be in a lot of trouble if someone hurts themselves, aren't I?" he asked as he sat down on the table somewhere next to her. It wasn't until he shined his light onto his face and caught her outline that he realized they were only inches apart. In his mind, he had assumed they had had at least a foot between them.

"I'd count on it," she said as she, too, shined her light onto her face. "Particularly if it's Molly or Lucy."

"We never hurt ourselves, though," he said, lowering his light to the ground.

"There were only four of us, though, and we were more cautious than some of these kids."

The sound of a thud and a small yelp caused both Ted and Victoire to point their wands in the direction of the noise, but nothing was there. Apparently, whoever had fallen had gotten up and kept going. Victoire raised her wand and started absently bouncing it so that the light danced. Ted watched it for what seemed like a long time before finally deciding to speak again.

"So, I hear you're going to France," he said as he flipped his wand around and shone it in her face. He mostly wanted to see her expression when he asked her, but he also did it to drive the point home. She squinted and shielded her eyes.

"For a bit over the summer," she said coolly.

"For how long?"

"Not sure, but probably for a couple of weeks." She flipped her wand around on him and shined her light right back into his face. It was done in such a way that it couldn't be construed as malicious, or even aggravated, but rather, "See, I can shine my light in your face too, you dolt."

It made him grin. For some reason, he took that to be a sign that she wasn't mad at him. If she was really mad at him, she'd still be ignoring him. He'd read the entire situation wrong. Something may be off between them, but at least it wasn't because he did something. He lowered his wand and looked off into the darkness. "That's crap."

He heard her inhale. "I'm actually rather excited for it."

"Oh, it's really cool for you," he said. "I just thought you'd be around this summer."

"I'll be back by the Quidditch World Cup," she said as she laughed a little. "Dominique and Louis will be sure of that."

"Yeah, you better be," he mumbled as he thought about how he'd actually been looking forward to her being around this summer. He'd taken for granted the fact that she was usually just there.

"Nathaniel seemed nice," she said out of nowhere. The comment made his stomach lurch. If she started asking him things about Nate, or whether or not he may be interested in her, he really thought he'd throw something.

"Yeah, he took a bit of a liking to you, didn't he?" he muttered as he lowered his wand down from his face and started bouncing the light along the ground in a manner similar to the way she had been doing it.

"Dominique said the same thing, but I think he was just trying to be nice," she said as James suddenly called out from somewhere that he had found someone.

"Nope," Ted said quickly as he pointed his want towards James's voice. "He was flirting with you. He kept asking me about you, too."

She was quiet for a moment. "What'd you say?"

His stomach lurched again. "What did you want me to say?"

"It doesn't matter what I wanted, what did you actually say?"

He stared at where she would have been in the darkness. He was happy it was dark out given the possible look of revulsion that he was about to make if she so much as uttered one attractive quality about Nate. "I'm just curious what you would have wanted me to say."

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I'm just curious."

"Honestly," she said heavily. "That I had a boyfriend or something. That I wasn't interested, but politely of course."

He considered this. A relieved sort of heaviness lifted off of his chest at her simply mentioning she wasn't interested in Nate. Just the idea of them together…He pushed the thought of his head. He knew he knew her better than that. Why had he even doubted that she wouldn't see right through Nate's bullshit? Apparently, he was reading all sorts of things wrong tonight.

Victoire's wand light suddenly shined onto the side of his head. "So, what did you tell him?"

"Something like that," he mumbled as he turned towards her and squinted once the light hit his eyes. "I mean, he's an okay bloke, but not for you."

She smiled at him. It was a smile reminiscent of the other night when he couldn't quite place what was so different about it. Her eyes seemed happier and more intense at the exact same time. The other night it had been a bit unsettling, but at the moment, he found himself somewhat drawn by it. It was as though that smile spoke the words that didn't really need to be said. Things were fine between them. They always were and they always would be. He was an idiot for thinking otherwise.

He started into the darkness as a sudden and intense feeling settled between them. He glanced back at Victoire out of the corner of his eye and noticed she was still smiling, but now looked as if she was deep in thought about something. Whatever it was, she seemed happy about it. Her expression was both gleeful and serene at the same time.

This entire moment made him smile. For whatever reason, he could suddenly understand where Simon had been coming from. At times like this, he couldn't help but find Victoire adorable; truly adorable. He'd known it on a surface level for awhile now of course, but right then, he could also see the deeper levels. The levels Simon, or any of the rest of them, saw all too easily when they met her. She did have a way about her that was very attractive when she wanted to be. Of course, he would never admit any of this to Simon, but maybe he'd have to cut him some slack from now on about his former crush.

Victoire suddenly laughed.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said, sounding a little distant. Somewhere, Freddie Weasley had suddenly yelled something about being 'it' and was counting off loudly. "So, Russia…?"

"So, Russia," he mumbled. He had almost forgotten he had that in front of him tomorrow. "That will be loads of work."

"At least you'll get the chance to see your Russian girl."

He screwed his face up in confusion. "What Russian girl?" he asked, though as he said it, the image of Mila the Russian assistant flashed before his mind. He turned to Victoire and wondered when he had even told her that story. "You mean the assistant? How do you remember that?"

"I've got a good memory," she said, shining her light onto her face.

"Yeah, maybe," he said with a tired sounding laugh as he thought about her, "but somehow I don't think anything will come of that."

"You're not even going to try?" she asked curiously. Her tone wasn't its usual, 'You need to do this, Ted,' but rather subdued and inquisitive sounding.

"Weren't you the one telling me I should try a little closer to home?" he asked as he flipped the light onto her before quickly flipping it back on himself. He was having enough problems with the women in this country, let alone foreign ones.

"I suppose I did." She grinned. "And I still mean that," she added quickly after.

"Well, then," he sighed, "that's the plan."

"How close to home?" she asked suddenly.

He shrugged. If he knew that, he wouldn't be in this boat in the first place, would he? She would just appear and everything would fall into place, easy as that. The right girl was out there, but he just had to sort through the wrong ones until he found her. "I guess that's what I'm trying to figure out."

She didn't say anything and seemed to be pondering what he'd just said. He wasn't sure why the topic of his love life was being discussed, particularly given how lame it was, but Victoire had always shown an extreme interest in dissecting it in order to give him advice about things. Truth be told, he wasn't sure why he hadn't tried running his current situation by her for advice. After everything that had happened with Elizabeth, he'd been a little more disappointed than he'd let on. He could kid himself into believing that he could turn himself into some ladies man who lived in the moment and went around trailing pubs for random girls, but that's all it would be—kidding himself.

Victoire would probably even be able to relate given that they were both essentially in the same situation after having had someone they fancied choose someone else. She might have something insightful to add to make him feel better about things. She usually did. After all, she didn't even seem to be upset by what had happened with Stuart anymore. It was as if she'd already bounced back and moved on. He wondered what her secret was.

"Hey, Vic?"

"Yes?" She sounded startled.

"I…" he said before pausing and wondering how he should go about this. He should probably start from square one and tell her what had happened with Elizabeth first so she could better understand. "I…Here's the thing…" He paused again once he sensed someone approaching. Both he and Victoire raised their wands in the direction of the sound.

"The little bugger actually found me," Louis suddenly mumbled as he plopped himself down on the bench on Victoire's opposite side. He looked annoyed.

Ted bit his tongue and sighed. He could ask her about it later. "Was it Freddie?"

"I have no idea how," Louis blurted out. "I was over behind the shed. You know that loose panel that you can slip behind if you pull it far enough?"

"Yeah," Ted said. "Arthur still hasn't fixed that?"

"I think it keeps breaking," Louis said as he looked up at his sister. "Didn't he say something about that, Vic?"

"I have no idea," she said sharply.

Ted glanced up at her. He wasn't sure where the irritation in her tone had suddenly come from, but it looked as though she was now just as annoyed as Louis was. Then again, he was probably just reading the situation wrong. He'd been doing that all night.


	21. Happy Birthday, Ted

Ted's eyes flew open with a start. It was still dark and quiet in the room he was currently laying in with the exception of the sound of Nate's heavy breathing across the room. Lying on his side with a pillow wedged under his back, he squinted through the darkness in an attempt to find his watch. He'd put it on the bedside table next to him before he'd gone to sleep, but he couldn't see it. Reaching out, he felt around until he connected with its leather strap and pulled it towards him. Using his wand for light, he checked the time. It was 3:37 in the morning.

He groaned inwardly and set the watch back on the table side. He pulled the pillow out from beneath him and laid flat on his back. He'd been awoken by a dream. A really good dream. A really, really good dream, which he'd been having a lot of lately...all about the same person. He quickly reminded himself that he had no control over his dreams, but that didn't stop him from smirking into the darkness. Besides enjoying his latest dream, he was rather amused by it.

He'd been in Russia for six days now, with one left to go. Working day and night with Hazel and Nate—compiling notes into drafts and taking all the information they collected and attempting to turn it into something to return to England with. It was long and arduous, but by now Ted was used to it. He was beyond used to it. He could do this stuff in his sleep if he wanted to. However, that wasn't what he was doing in his sleep at all. Not even a little bit.

He flipped onto his stomach and closed his eyes again. Ever since that night at the Weasleys' house, Ted had been having some rather interesting dreams about Victoire-the last person he would ever expect them to be about. Interesting in the sense that he even thought that he might have a little crush on her. He said little because that's all it was and all it would ever remain to be since he had no intention of acting on it. The idea of him and Victoire being anything more than friends was the dumbest thing he'd ever imagined. Completely mad, in fact…Not that that stopped him from enjoying the dreams about her.

It was actually funny, or so he thought. Having dreams about Victoire was all well and good as long as he didn't let them start to weigh on him. He'd come to terms with the fact that Victoire, of all people, was at the center of these dreams right after the first night he'd had one. Upon waking up, it had bothered him that he was dreaming about her like that, but only for a few seconds. Only until he realized that it was only a dream. Dreams didn't mean anything. Well, they might, but in this case they certainly didn't.

In this case, Ted figured it could all be attributed to Simon running his mouth about how similar Elizabeth and Victoire were and, in turn, planting strange thoughts into his subconscious. His mind was probably centering on Victoire because there were no other girls to focus on. Soon enough, the dreams would pass when he met someone new. He knew that. In fact, he was so unfazed by the dreams that he felt he could even tell Victoire about them. She'd probably think they were as funny as he did.

What was most interesting though, was that the more Ted accepted the dreams as harmless, the better they became. What had started out as flirty and tame had progressed into the latest one where they had…He suddenly laughed into his pillow. Well, he probably wouldn't tell Victoire that one, but it had been really good.

As he rested on that thought, he suddenly remembered that if it was currently after midnight, then that meant he was now nineteen. It was his birthday, and here he was in Russia with a bunch of people who didn't even know or care. Not that Ted could blame them for not knowing because he hadn't actually mentioned it to anyone. Like most things in his life, he didn't feel the urge to share random tidbits of his business with people he barely knew. When it came down to it, Nate was right. He really was full of secrets.

He didn't know what he should expect from his birthday, if anything. He'd told Harry and his grandmother not to bother sending him anything given that he'd be home in a day anyway. He knew he was at an age where they'd actually listen to him as opposed to secretly trying to send something. So, unless he did somehow feel compelled to mention it to someone around here, his birthday would literally go unnoticed. That struck him as a depressing thought.

He picked up a pillow and buried his head underneath it. What a way to kick off his nineteenth year.

"What time's our Portkey back tomorrow?" Nate asked in the evening on that same day as he, Ted, and Hazel sat in the dining area of their inn. After working straight through the day, they had finally stopped to eat and call it a night.

"Not until later in the afternoon," Hazel said lazily, "six or something."

Nate sighed and the three of them sat silently in their own tired dazes. Ted had had his differences with the both of them over the past few weeks, but over the course of the trip, they had all managed to get along well enough. He'd come to accept the fact that he was going to fight with Hazel, he was going to get annoyed with Nate, and that they both probably felt the same about him. For the sake of their work, they had to push through it and deal with each other.

"Here comes the ragtag bunch," Nate said with a head gesture towards the door. Healer Pullman was leading the Trainee Healers in after having just finished their day over at the hospital. Ted hadn't really seen any of them in the last three days, what with Pullman keeping them busy, but they looked to be in better spirits that his group did. Not much better mind you, but better.

"Hey," said Orilis as he sat down at the table with them while the rest of the group followed suit at the table beside them. "How are you three?"

"Tired," Hazel mumbled. "We're about to eat."

"I'm starving," said Brina from the other table, her voice chipper.

"We're done for the night," Nate added to Orilis. "What about you guys?"

He nodded. "We were planning on taking it easy tonight."

"Sounds good to me," he said just as the elderly Russian innkeeper appeared to greet everyone. Ted trusted nothing on the menu of this place since everything he'd seen here looked rather horrifying; he'd sworn he'd seen a beak sticking out of one's man soup just the other day. Of course, not being able to understand Russian didn't help matters. He'd stuck to eating eggs on toast since the day he'd arrived, and had no desire for someone to tell him whether or not the eggs belonged to anything other than a bird he was used to eating. In this case, ignorance was bliss.

The two groups talked about what they'd been up to and what they'd been learning. The Healers were a little more enthusiastic about their endeavors while the researchers stuck to the basics and whatever else required them to talk as little as possible. Ted, however, was barely paying attention at all. He was busy staring at a clock that hung over the fireplace in the center of the room. It was nearly nine-fifteen here, which meant that it was six-fifteen at home. He would officially be nineteen at six-seventeen in the evening. It was a habit he'd developed as a child to watch the clock tick down the final seconds if he could. He'd missed a few birthdays here and there, but as the small hand on the clock ticked closer to the seventeenth notch, he knew he'd catch this one.

"You all right, Ted?" Hazel asked with ten seconds remaining.

He nodded and glanced at her quickly before looking back at the clock. Five seconds.

"You're just starting off into space."

"I'm watching the clock," he said as the hand hit the notch. There it was, then. Happy birthday to him. He smiled and turned back to her. "It's nothing."

She stared at him questioningly before turning back to the others. He sighed before doing the same and figured he might as well attempt to make the best of the night. He'd even considered mentioning to everyone that it was his birthday, but at this point in the day, it seemed a little past the point.

The mood lightened as they all finally got some food inside of them. It almost seemed to give Ted, Hazel, and Nate a new sense of energy that allowed them to at least match the Healers and add to the conversation. A few laughs even went around as the night crawled on, and they all rejoiced that they'd be back in England tomorrow eating the foods they preferred and sleeping in their own beds. Even Healer Pullman seemed to be less rigid than he usual self, cracking a few jokes here and there in her own corny way.

"Rumor has it that Herbertson is planning another hire," Nate was saying. "He and Professor Holt are old friends and he's always pushing people through to him. He says he's got this kid that, depending on his N.E.W.T. scores, would be a fantastic fit."

"I don't get my hopes up," Hazel said. "The fact that Ted stuck around was surprising."

"Another body in the lab would be nice," Nate said. "Think of how much time off we could get?"

Ted smiled at this. He was reminded of his first few days on the job and Nate telling him he should run while he still had the chance. In retrospect, a part of him thought he probably should have run, but at the same time, a larger part of him felt as though he was exactly where he should be. As much as his job drove him insane, this was what he was supposed to be doing.

The elderly Russia innkeeper reappeared at their tableside brandishing a piece of parchment in her hands. In rapid Russian, she began speaking to everyone at the table, but only Pullman and Hazel seemed to have a clue as to what she was saying.

"Does she want us to pay the bill?" Orilis asked. "We weren't finished yet."

"No, she's got a letter," Hazel said as Healer Pullman had reached out to take it. She inspected the script on the outside before looking up at Ted.

"To Ted Lupin," she said as she held it out. He looked surprised as the letter made its way down to him. It was probably something for his birthday, but he really hadn't expected anything from anyone.

"It's not from Mungo's is it?" asked Hazel once he got a hold of it. Immediately, he recognized the especially neat handwriting on the outside and knew at once who it was from.

He smiled. "It's from a friend of mine."

"Rather late for post," Orilis said as Ted ignored him and tore into the letter. He started to read:

Ted,

Look who's gone and gotten old on me. Happy birthday! I hope you're having at least a little fun in Russia. You'll have to write to me and tell me all about it if you get the time.

I wish I had a present to give you since your present for my birthday was so perfect, but in good time. I'll make it up to you this summer when I get to see you, I promise. I'm really excited for the summer…It honestly can't come fast enough. I also promise a longer letter later, but I'm just so swamped with school work lately that I can barely scrape this one out. I blame you. I really do.

Happy nineteenth. I miss you a lot.

Love,

Victoire

His smile grew wider the further through the letter he read. He was about to scan it a second time when Hazel asked, "Everything okay?" There was concern in her tone that made him look up. He noticed several faces on him and realized they were all thinking the same thing. Post this late at night usually meant something had happened.

"Oh, yeah, fine." He shrugged. "Just my friend sending me a birthday wish. Nothing—" He stopped once he realized what he'd just said.

"It's your birthday?" Hazel asked. "And you didn't say anything?"

"He doesn't ever say anything about anything," Nate said. "How is this shocking?"

"Well, happy birthday," said Elizabeth as everyone else offered Ted similar sentiments. Ebins made a suggestion about ordering a cake or the likes, but the group quickly agreed that it may not be the best of ideas. The general feeling was that it would probably contain muskrat, polar bear, or some other oddity they wouldn't be able to stomach.

"So, that makes you nineteen?" asked Nate.

Ted nodded absently. He was busy rereading his letter.

"Yeah, nothing special about nineteen," he continued. "Is there?"

Orilis and Hazel shook their heads before Pullman started recounting how she could remember being nineteen and being in the thick of her Healer training. The others began recalling some of the more exciting things they had done at nineteen, but Ted was barely listening. Reading the letter had brought on a reaction from him that he hadn't anticipated having. It had come on quickly and strangely, but the letter had somehow made him feel lonely. The room abruptly felt stuffy and confining and, out of nowhere, he felt as if he needed to escape.

"I'm going to go grab some air," he said as he stood. No one seemed to question this, and he walked straight through the exit and out into the freezing Moscow night. He pulled his cloak around him tighter and paced up and down the concrete sidewalk that happened to overlook a busy street below.

He hadn't had much time to venture outside on his last trip here, seeing as it had been during the dead of winter, but standing there staring out at the various lights of the city, he wished he had. He'd spent so much time working that he'd never even contemplated searching around the city. It looked beautiful, but he wouldn't know for sure as long as he locked himself up inside.

He sat on a nearby concrete bench that felt frozen on his rear. Adjusting his cloak so that it created a buffer between the two, he pulled out his wand and mumbled a heating charm. He immediately felt waves of heat emit from its tip and held it towards himself, switching positions every so often to keep warm. As cold as it was outside, it was still a better alternative from the stifling inn.

The letter from Victoire crossed his mind again and he quickly pulled it from his pocket to read once more. The letter wasn't particularly eventful, or even long, but for some reason, reading it again began to make him feel better. Perhaps it was because he was alone on his birthday or because it reminded him of home. Perhaps things were more exhausting than he'd let on and getting a friendly reminder that people actually cared about him was what he needed. He wasn't sure what it was, but he didn't really care. He just liked the feeling he got when he read it.

He'd never thought of himself as a particularly lonely person, per se. Guarded, sure, but not lonely. How could he be when he'd spent his life surrounded by supportive people who made it a point to let him know how they were there for him at a moment's notice? He'd never once doubted or questioned their loyalty or their love for him. He knew he was very fortunate for everything he'd been given, particularly since things could have easily been altogether very different for him. Still, there were times where he did feel fairly empty. These times came and went, and people would probably attribute them to the loss of his parents so young-which he doubted he would correct them on-but moments like these were when he thought about how different he might have been had his parents lived to see him grow up…Or lived to see him reach one birthday, let alone nineteen.

Glancing back down at the letter, he scanned the part where Victoire mentioned her birthday and the present he'd gotten for her. She claimed it had been perfect and that she wished she had something perfect for him. He smiled. What could she give him? He considered the idea of what this could be as he began watching a few Muggle cars putt along in the distance, their exhausts shooting out clouds of smoke and steam.

The only thing he could think of wanting from Victoire was for her to actually be around. He wished she was here right now to tell him how he was being an idiot, or how he wasn't funny, or how he was over thinking things, or…He smiled as several choice adjectives ran through his mind. He could always count on her to be completely honest with him-good or bad.

Though, the biggest reason he wished Victoire was here was because he never experienced this lonely feeling when she was around. She was like a patronus to his bad moods and feelings of loneliness. She refused to put up with him when he felt like this and would always make it a point to make him snap out of...

Abruptly, his train of thought stopped. A thought had occurred to him that threw him for a slight loop. Was it that Victoire forced him to stop feeling low because she wouldn't tolerate it, or was it that he just so happened to feel better about things because she was around? There was a difference. A very large difference. His mind began to swim as his arse began to freeze. Did her mere presence actually have that much of an effect on him? The dreams were one thing, but thinking like this was just…what was it?

He started straight ahead. It did seem strange that having dreams about her didn't seem to bother him in the least, when a year ago he would have probably checked himself into the mental care ward to get his head examined. Yet even as he thought about it now, it continued to yield the same result. Not only was he not bothered, but he enjoyed them. He downright anticipated having them. Add to that his epiphanies of how much he liked being around her, how she had an effect on him that made him feel better about himself, and how she knew him better than anyone else and…

"Oh, shit," he said as the realization hit him like a Bludger to the head. He'd developed feelings for her; real, serious, potentially friendship altering feelings. "Shit."

This was a bad thing. A very bad thing. The idea of him and Victoire being anything more than friends didn't even seem tangible. They couldn't…There were a multitude of reasons why, the most important being that to risk their friendship for something more seemed irresponsible. They'd spent a year as it was not speaking to each other and it'd taken them that year to come to their senses and set things right. Plus, that had only been after one fight! The only real fight the two had ever had. If they got together and then ended on bad terms, there was probably no bouncing back.

He thought of Celia and how they hadn't spoken in months. How after their break-up—no matter what they'd claimed and no matter how well the terms they ended on were—they really hadn't wanted much to do with the other now. They'd gone their separate ways, but that wasn't something he could do with Victoire. They were intrinsically linked through their families. A bad breakup wouldn't only cause strife between the two of them, but also with him and the Weasleys.

But he was getting ahead of himself. He was thinking of the after before there was even a before. Before there was even anything! How had his harmless little crush that he was sure would pass just this morning suddenly become this?

"Hey!" called out a voice as he snapped out of his thoughts and turned to see Nate and Elizabeth walking towards him.

"It's fucking freezing out here," Nate called out as his breath became visible as he spoke. "Are you completely mental?"

"Little bit," Ted said as he glanced back down at Victoire's letter and immediately folded it back up. "Apparently, a lot."

"Well, anyway," Nate said as he turned to Elizabeth. She, in turn, held out a small box to Ted. "We come baring a gift."

"It's nothing special," Elizabeth said as he took it, "just some Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans. It was the only thing we recognized over in the shop and we weren't taking any chances."

"And we're really not cheap. There was just no selection," Nate added before smiling. "Anyway, happy birthday." Elizabeth nodded as she bounced on the spot in an attempt to keep warm.

Ted stared down at the box before smiling back up at the two of them. "You really shouldn't have," he joked.

Nate held out his hand. "Hey, if you don't want them—"

Ted pulled the box closer to him. "I didn't say that." He smiled. "Seriously though, thanks."

"I think you should share…" Nate began before a visible shiver ran through him. "Okay, it's way too bloody cold out here. I'm going back inside." He immediately turned and started jogging back towards the inn, but not before slipping on an ice patch and just barely managing to keep his balance. Ted could hear him swear from all the way where he was sitting.

"I bet your bum is freezing sitting on that concrete," Elizabeth said as she pointed to the bench.

Ted laughed at the randomness of her comment. "Pretty much."

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Sure." He shrugged. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well," she said, "for one, you're sitting in the freezing cold by choice, which probably means you have something heavy on your mind. Otherwise, you wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything else. Two," she smiled sympathetically, "you're spending your birthday in this dump. I know I'd be a little upset if I had to be away from my friends and family and stuck with the lot we've got here."

He held up his box of candy. "You're not all bad."

She smiled. "It would take a lot more than some sweets for me to be happy around here on my birthday of all days." She pulled out her wand and seemed to be following Ted's example by casting a heating charm. She suddenly stopped fidgeting.

"I still appreciate it," he said as he opened the box and inspected one of the beans before popping it into his mouth. He had been hoping to find out the flavor, but it was rock hard and next to impossible to chew. The beans were frozen solid.

"Your face is priceless," Elizabeth said as she watched him struggle.

"I fink I broke a toof."

She laughed and he held out the box for her to take one. She gave him a reluctant look before doing so. It only took her a moment to make a pained face similar to his as she, too, tried to chew. "Dare fwozen."

"I twied to tell you dat."

She spit hers out onto the ground, her face disgusted. "It wasn't worth the struggle. It was tripe flavored."

"I fink mine's popcorn," Ted said as he finally managed to gain some headway in chewing. He smiled happily. "I like popcorn."

She laughed again.

He started searching through the box for his next bean victim just as Elizabeth took the seat next to him. She jumped a little as she sat on the frozen concrete. "Merlin's left foot! That is cold."

Ted swallowed and shook the box to get a better look at the bottom. "I warned you."

"Yes, you're just full of warnings, aren't you?"

He glanced at her sideways. "I'm a pretty wise guy."

"So, bestow some wisdom on me," she said as she pulled her cloak around her.

He grabbed another bean and popped it in his mouth as he considered this. This time he let the bean sit there, hoping the heat from his mouth would make it easier to chew. "Okay, ready?"

"Ready."

"Don't sweat the petty things and don't pet the sweaty things."

She nodded thoughtfully as a small smile crossed her face. "That is very wise."

"I wish I could take credit for it," he said absently as he pushed the bean to the back of his mouth to use his molars on it. A silence filled between them as he concentrated on his candy and she looked off into the distance at the various sites.

It was funny how just a couple weeks ago, this would have been exactly the sort of situation Ted would have hoped to have been in. He was alone with Elizabeth and it was dark and cold out. The sheer amount of moves he could have made seemed endless, but yet, sitting here now, he didn't feel compelled to make any of them. Part of this was of course because she had rejected him, but as Victoire crept into his thoughts once again, he knew there was a bigger and slightly unsettling reason.

Worse yet, sitting next to Elizabeth only reminded him of what Simon had mentioned just a week earlier. He was really starting to tire of Simon being right so often. Ted had spent years and years fancying a girl who was as similar to Victoire as you could get. Perhaps it wasn't a foolproof comparison since he didn't know Elizabeth as well as he knew Victoire, but it was close enough; too close for comfort really. Too close to have not, at the very least, recognized it earlier. A part of him thought that the two being so similar should be heeded as a sign, or perhaps a screaming warning. He hadn't stood a chance with one; it was likely that the case stood for the other, too.

"Can I ask you something?" Ted asked suddenly.

She stared at him curiously before shrugging. "Sure."

"Have you ever fallen for a friend?" he asked. "You know, as in fancied them?"

She let out a dismissive sounding laugh, as if she was thinking of something specific. "Unfortunately."

'Unfortunately' was never a good sign. "It didn't work out?"

"It's more complicated than that."

He sat up straighter. "Why was it complicated?"

She continued to stare at him curiously. "I mean, it's always complicated when you start mixing feelings with friends. To say it's not…" She trailed off. "Maybe for some people it's not, but for me it has been."

He looked away. Granted her experience on the matter wasn't the be-all end-all experience for everyone, but the fact that it seemed like these sorts of things turned out sour more often than not was not encouraging.

"Why are you asking?"

He sighed. "I'm just looking for a little perspective, I guess."

She turned towards him and pulled her foot up onto the bench. "My perspective on the subject is the absolute last one you want. I promise." She pushed her hair back. "But for the sake of argument, let me give you a little story to go along with your perspective." She took a deep breath. "Okay, there once was a girl named Elizabeth—"

He laughed. "Oh, it's this kind of story."

"Bear with me, it gets better. Anyway, there was once a girl named Elizabeth, who spent a very long time dating a boy named"—she smiled and made a face—"Druart. We'll call him Drew for short."

"You're really bad at concealing people's identities."

She pointed at him. "Don't interrupt story time. So, anyway, Elizabeth and Drew dated for ages until one day they woke up and realized they weren't the same kids they used to be and it's time to move on, which they did. All was well in the world and Elizabeth carried on with her life, focusing on her job and her friends. She even ended up getting very close to one of these friends."

"Do they get a terrible alias, too?"

"No," she said matter-of-factly. "His name won't be mentioned at the moment, because he's an indecisive and aggravating prat."

"Well, then…"

"So," she carried on, "this very same friend decides to one night tell her that he fancies her and that he has for a while now. Now, she of course freaks out a bit because she hadn't expected anything like this-" she paused for emphasis, "at all. Not even a little bit. She was completely taken off guard."

Ted thought about how Victoire would react in the same situation Elizabeth was describing, and two scenarios seemed plausible. She would either think he was kidding and laugh—then she'd feel terribly guilty once she realized he wasn't, but by then he'd already be mortified—or she'd be completely surprised and unsure of how to respond. She'd probably start racking her brain for the nicest possible ways to turn him down, claiming how he was her best friend and they couldn't jeopardize that. Her eyes would be full of pity and sympathy as she spoke. He couldn't possibly think of a more embarrassing situation.

"So," she continued as Ted tuned back into her story, "Elizabeth didn't know how she felt. She didn't think she wanted to fall for this boy since she valued him as her friend. She didn't want to complicate things."

There it was, he thought. That would be Victoire's reaction to a tee.

"Plus, she didn't really want a boyfriend since she'd just spent a good few years in a relationship. So, she decided it was best to distance herself from this boy so that he could realize this."

Ted pursed his lips. He hadn't even thought of the possibility of Victoire distancing herself from him because she would have felt weird about things. It was exactly something she would do, though. He glanced at Elizabeth. "So, what happened?"

"Well, I—er, I mean, she—" She rolled her eyes. "Oh, sod it. Look, I realize it wasn't exactly the most mature reaction, but I was scared. Plus, there was this other huge issue besides him and me risking our friendship. He's also Stu's friend. He's actually Stu's friend first. One of his best mates. Basically, he and I are friends because of Stuart."

Ted's eyebrow arched as this mystery bloke suddenly materialized in his head in the form of a very specific person. "You're talking about Dave Thorpe, aren't you?"

Immediately, Elizabeth's eyes went a little wide. "How did you…?"

"I'm not really sure," he said, looking away and laughing a little. "Just the whole friends with your ex and…" He shook his head, finding himself now more curious about where this had ended up rather than with the details of how it had happened. "So, wait, what happened? Is he the one you told me you had feelings for after that night you and I…?"

She nodded. "The problem was that I confused not wanting to have feelings for him with not having feelings for him. I went and tried to force myself to like other people in order to convince myself I didn't fancy him." She gave Ted an obvious look.

It took him a second to realize that she was talking about him. "Oh, is that where I come in?"

"And even though that other person was a fantastic guy, don't get me wrong…"

Ted laughed.

"When push came to shove, I couldn't deny how I felt." She sighed slowly. "So, I told Dave I felt the same and that's when everything went to shit."

"Wait, what?" Ted asked, sounding surprised. He was genuinely puzzled as to how this story was turning out. "He'd already moved on?"

"No, he still felt the same," she said blankly, "but there was still the issue of Stu. Dave's argument was that Stu didn't seem to think it was a big deal to chase Victoire Weasley-you know, Dave's ex?"

Ted looked at the ground at the mention of her name.

"So, Dave didn't think it should even be an issue that he and I…you know?" She looked off in the distance. "Still, I said that it was only fair to talk to Stu first. It seemed dodgy to go behind his back."

Ted thought of Victoire again just as another sudden notion occurred to him. "Wait. Was that why you were so keen on finding out whether or not Reynolds and Victoire had had something going on that night at the Leaky?"

"Yes," she said. "Well, not at first, because when I first asked you, I hadn't worked out my feelings yet. That was just more me trying to see if Stu was lying. After I did work out how I felt, I certainly wanted to know if that was the case."

"It all makes sense now…"

"Right," she said. "When you told me the other day what Victoire had told you, I realized Stu is a liar." She looked away. "And even with all this evidence stacked against him, I still felt Dave and I owned it to him to tell him the truth." Her face grew annoyed. "Looking back, I shouldn't have, but I didn't count on Stuart being a shithead."

"Sorry it took you so long to get the memo," Ted said with a smirk.

Elizabeth threw him a lofty look. "He didn't used to be," she said softly. "This is all new. I don't even know who he is anymore."

"So, what'd he do?" Ted asked as he popped a red bean into his mouth and hoped with all hope that it was cherry and not blood flavored. Blood always made him gag.

"Him and Dave got in a huge fight about it," she began, now staring at her shoes as she shuffled them against the sidewalk, "Stuart got angry at Dave for chasing me, and Dave told him he had no right since Stu didn't seem to think it was a problem to chase Victoire. In turn, Stu told him that chasing Victoire was entirely different than Dave chasing me, and that the situations were somehow completely different."

Ted made a face that only had half to do with her story. He spit his bean out his bean to the sidewalk below. It had been blood. Elizabeth watched him before he sputtered, "Sorry. Keep going."

"Anyway," she sighed, "to make a long story short. They called each other rude names or something and somehow Stu said something to Dave that made him start to wonder if he and I were doing the right thing." She rolled her eyes.

"Jeez…"

"Yeah, so according to Stu I'm a bitch who comes between friends," she said. "He's angry, but I don't care about that because I'm just as angry at him. Dave's confused and doesn't know what he wants anymore, and he says he'll think about things while I'm here in Russia." She bit her lip and made a frustrated expression. "Guess I'm not so good at hiding the bitchy thing after all."

Ted didn't say anything. Truth be told, the one thought running through his head was that it seemed as though everyone had their fair share of drama. At least if he told Victoire he had feelings for her, he wouldn't have some mad ex boyfriend or a betrayed friend to take into account. It would literally just be a matter of him and her sorting out their feelings. It seemed easier than what Elizabeth was going through, but it didn't feel like it.

"So, yes," she mumbled in a sad sounding tone. "Sometimes I wish I would have just never said anything, or that I would have just kept pushing Dave away like I'd been doing. I obviously wouldn't now be in this all-or-nothing situation with him, because honestly," she looked at Ted, "how can things go back to normal now?"

He stared back at her. It was the biggest question and his biggest fear. When all was said and done, if things didn't work out, would he and Victoire go back to normal? Would it be possible? What would normal even be? Sure, if he told her he had feelings for her and she turned him down, they'd probably regain a semblance of friendship, but it would be hard to get back to how things were before. The idea would always be at the back of both of their minds that the other had entirely different priorities.

It seemed clear to him that saying something to Victoire was not something he should do. Besides all the obvious complications, there was still the one lingering fact that he had yet to really address; the most superficial one of them all. Just like he'd told Nate that day at the Weasleys, the truth was, Victoire could do way better than him. Looks, personality, all of it. She could find someone better. Not only could she, but she could easily.

"But," Elizabeth said suddenly. "At the same time, I don't regret telling him how I felt because at least I was honest, you know? You can't help how you feel, and if it all ends up blowing up in my face, then at least I was true to myself." She shrugged. "That's really all I can do."

He furrowed his brow. Being true to yourself was easier said than done sometimes.

"So, there's my perspective about falling for your friends," she said. "I know it was far more than you cared to know, but I guess I just felt like getting a little perspective myself."

He grinned at her. "You're not a bitch by the way."

She laughed. "Tell Stuart that."

"He's a fucking wanker," Ted said as he cracked his knuckles. "I swear there's not one thing I like about that kid."

"He honestly used to be a really good guy," Elizabeth muttered as she pulled her cloak around her again. She took a deep breath. "So, who's the girl?"

"Sorry?"

"The one you wanted perspective on," she said. "Who is it?"

"Oh," he said as he looked away toward where the Muggle cars were still putting down the street. "It's nothing."

"Is it really? Or do you just not want to tell me who she is?"

"A little of both," he said with an awkward laugh. "I just don't think anything will come from it, so it's not even worth talking about."

"Why not?" she asked as her eyes suddenly grew apologetic. "Wait, my story didn't discourage you, did it? Because I know it sounds really daft, but—"

"No." He shook his head. "Your story only made me realize what I'd already known." He shrugged. "She and I are friends and that's really all we should be. It just is what it is."

"But if you've got feelings for her, you should say something," she said. "For all you know, she might fancy you."

He let out a doubtful laugh. "Not likely."

"How do you know, though?"

He looked down into his box of candy and started anxiously shaking it so the pieces inside jumped around. "I'm not her type."

"What's her type?"

He grinned. "I'd say similar to yours." He had wanted to say identical, but decided against it.

She looked confused and cocked her head curiously to the side. "I don't have a type."

"Yes, you do," he said. "I mean, Stuart Reynolds? Dave Thorpe? They all fit a pretty similar mold."

"Or we just have things in common and enjoy each other's company," she said dryly.

"I'm sure there's that, too," he said, "but the fact remains that I'm not—"

"And in case you've forgotten," she added. "You and I...we did..." She gestured between them obviously. "So, if this girl has, as you say, similar tastes to me, then right there you just lost your argument."

"We were drunk."

"Ted there's a reason it was you and not, say, Nate. It's not as if I just randomly thought that night, 'Oh, Ted looks bored, I choose him.' There was an attraction there. You're funny, you're clever, and no matter what I tell you, you really are a nice guy. A lot of girls…" She paused. "No, most girls really, really like that. I like that, I just…I just went and got myself involved with someone else that was all those same things first." Her face grew frustrated again. "Stupid Dave."

He wasn't sure he necessarily believed her, but it was still nice of her to say, especially since she really didn't have to. He forced a grin. "I just don't think it'll work."

"I really think you're underestimating yourself," she said. "But then again, what do I know about these things."

"True," he said as a playful smile began to grow on his face. "You did date Stuart for over two years or something, so maybe I shouldn't take your advice."

"Three years," she corrected, forcing a begrudged smile. "And I really think you should tell me who this girl is so I can warn her."

"Trust me," he said, looking off into the distance. "She's already well aware."


	22. Matchmaking

After such a hectic April, Ted had been convinced that May could in no way be any worse. He was right in a sense, seeing as the most the month had been spent in a relatively quiet manner. His work load wasn't heavy, everyone was getting along, he had time for his friends and for his family, and with the exception of Simon attempting to fix him up with a random girl here and there, everything was relatively the same as it had always been. It wasn't until June came around that things began to get weird again.

He should have been expecting something strange to happen given that May had been so peaceful, but right from the start, June had been odd. He couldn't put his finger on what it was, but his days felt off kilter. Even the little things like the way his clothes fit or how he was now especially clumsy added to the strangeness of everything. He seemed more forgetful too, and twice had to be reminded how to make routine everyday potions while at work.

"Are you feeling okay?" Paul had asked him that very morning after he forgot to add salamander blood into a Strengthening Potion.

"I don't know what's gotten into me lately," Ted said as he reached over to grab the vile of blood that he had brought with him from the cupboard, but still neglected to add.

Paul shrugged. "We all have those days."

For Ted though, it seemed that "those days" were turning into "that week," or at the rate it was going, "that month." Upon other things he had forgotten to do was write Victoire back after her birthday letter. He'd put off writing it originally because his conflicted feelings made him unsure of what to say, but after a few weeks, he'd realized it was rather rude to just flat out ignore her—though ignoring her was what he probably needed to do most right now. When he'd finally forced himself to sit down and write, he'd only managed to bang out a rather dull letter about how well his birthday had ended up turning out and how he hoped to get the chance to see her before she left for France. The letter had only been just over two paragraphs, but had taken him an hour to write.

She was, of course, prompt as could be in her response, claiming that she'd be home for three days before she left and that, "you should definitely stop by if you get the time because I would really, really like to see you."

As he read that line several times, he couldn't help but notice the use of 'really' twice. She really, really wanted to see him, not just really. The double use could be indicative of a real desire to see him…Right? Maybe? He'd sat there trying to read meaning into one single word for a good three minutes until he realized he was being ridiculous—not to mention pathetic. She hadn't meant anything by it. More than ever, he realized that he needed a hobby.

To top things off, Simon was upping his matchmaking attempts and was now incessantly pestering Ted to meet some of the girls he thought he'd be good with. Ted still hadn't exactly warmed up to the idea of being set up, but he wasn't against it enough to really fight it either. Plus, he could only claim he was busy with work so much before Simon stopped buying it as an excuse.

He finally relented one night by attending a quasi-sort of party that Susan had thrown at her flat; knowing full well what was in store for him if he did go. It was there that Simon—as though it was his job—introduced him to almost every single girl in his department, some of whom were all either very sweet, very pretty, or very interesting, but none of whom were all three. While Ted had enjoyed himself and met some fairly nice people, there hadn't been any notable sparks. Not one girl in the group had made him want to pursue anything further, and a few in particular had actually made him question why he was bothering to look.

"You're being too picky," Simon had told him after the party and after growing frustrated with—what he called—Ted's excuses. Ted had to admit, he was being rather difficult. It wasn't as if he could help it, though. As he saw it, when you knew what you wanted, it was hard to settle for something else. It was particularly hard when he already knew someone who possessed all of those things.

"Hey Lupin," Paul had called from across the lab and jogged Ted's thoughts. "What's the date?"

"June 11th."

"Oh," he said as though he realized that was an obvious answer. "I can't seem to keep the days straight lately. Has that ever happened to you?"

Ted made noise of agreement. "Ever since June started, I feel like my days have been off."

"Hey, you want to switch shifts with me next Monday? My wife's parents are coming into town and she really wants us to do dinner."

He shrugged. "I'm working at midnight on Monday."

"I'm working nine to nine, so you'd get the night off."

"Works for me," he said just as the door to the lab opened and shut from behind him. He was too busy trying to save his Strengthening Potion from its lack of having salamander blood that he didn't bother to turn and pay attention to who it was.

"Can I help you?" Paul asked.

"I'm just here to see Ted," said a familiar voice that did make him turn around. It was Elizabeth. She was walking straight over to him, her face looking rather tense. She looked tired and her robes were covered in some green substance that he wasn't sure he wanted to know where it may have come from.

"What's up?" Ted asked. "Funny seeing you in here."

She looked to where Paul was sitting across the room and immediately lowered her voice. "I need to tell you something."

He stared at her curiously. "Okay."

"I'm breaking like a hundred rules doing this," she muttered as her voice was now barely above a whisper, "but I thought you should know."

Her tone was worrisome and her eyes kept nervously flickering away from his. He was getting the impression that something was wrong. "Elizabeth, what is it?"

"On the ground floor," she said. "I was just down there prepping for my next rotation cycle, and suddenly there was a big to-do going on. Someone was brought in and there was blood, but the Healers managed to get the person hidden away before anyone could really see who it was. Then someone said that the person admitted...well, the hospital's trying to keep very quiet about it for security reasons. I don't even think I should know, but I found out and..." She took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. "It's one of the Harry's Potter's sons."

Ted could feel the color drain from his face. "What?"

"I don't even know which one or what happened, but it just happened and—"

He'd already stepped around her and was heading straight for the door. He didn't even feel like there was enough time to wait for the lifts and immediately dashed down the hall towards the stairs. His mind was blank. All he wanted to know was whether it was James or Albus who had been admitted and whether or not they were okay.

As he reached the ground floor, it was business as usual except for a large security wizard who was creating a blockade outside of one room in particular, ushering along anyone who had no business being there. Several Healers and nurses were gathered around the ground floor nurses' station with curious expressions on their faces as they glanced in the direction of the large wizard. They were talking in low voices.

"Do you think the press will turn up?" asked one nurse.

"If they get wind of it," said a heavyset Healer. "You know they look for any opportunity to bring up Potter. He sells papers."

Ted was tempted to ask them what was going on, but proceeded on down the corridor towards the large security wizard. His stomach was in knots and he could feel a lump in his throat the closer he got to the room.

The large, bald wizard was already eyeing him as he approached. "Keep walking."

"Who's in there?" Ted asked.

"None of your business."

"Look, I work here…"

"So do a lot of people."

Ted bit his tongue and looked away. "I need to know who's in there."

"Kid, the only people who need to know who's in there are the Healers on the job and the family."

"I'm as good as family!"

"As good as isn't it."

Ted looked at the ground. This was essentially the story of his life. As close as he was to Harry, he was never officially family and he never would be. While the press searched and scoured for stories and pictures of James, Albus, and Lily to add to their, "The Kids of the Boy Who Lived!" articles, he had never even been an interest to them. Perhaps a handful of times when he was younger and when people found themselves curious about the little boy in Harry Potter's presence, but when it came down to it, he wasn't the living breathing flesh of Harry Potter. Therefore, it wasn't the same. It took times like these to remind him of this fact. Someone he considered his brother was lying ten feet away in, who knew what, state and he wasn't even allowed to see him.

"Tell his parents I'm out here," Ted said.

The man just stared at him.

"Tell them I'm out here and they'll let me in."

He continued to stare at him, a patronizing smile growing at the corner of his mouth. It was as if he found it all very funny. Ted certainly wasn't in the mood to be a joke for some over developed troll's amusement.

"Are you dense?" he asked. "All you have to do is stick your fat head in there and tell his parents—"

He laughed. "Keep walking you squirrelly little prat."

Ted clenched his jaw. "No. Fuck you."

"Oooh," the troll man said. "You've got some balls—"

"Teddy!" yelled a small sounding voice. He turned and saw Lily running towards him, her grandmother and Cousins Rose and Hugo in tow. She had dashed ahead of them and flung her arms around his waist the second she could. As she looked up at him, he saw her face was puffy and tear streaked. She looked as if she'd been bawling.

Her knelt down to hug her. "Lil, what happened?"

The second he met her eyes, she looked as if she was about to cry again. She buried her face into his shoulder. The tears suddenly came.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he said as he wrapped his arms around her and glanced at Molly as she approached. He had no idea if it was actually going to be okay since he still didn't know what had happened, but he didn't want to admit—even to himself—that anything else was an option.

"How is he?" Molly asked anxiously.

"I honestly don't even know if it's James or Albus," he said as he picked up Lily and stood back up. "They won't tell me anything."

"It's Albus," she said in a preoccupied manner. "Have Harry and Ginny arrived?"

He shook his head. "No one's telling me anything."

She looked at the large wizard as if she expected him to jump out of the way at her insistence. He stared at her.

"I'd like to see my grandson," she said bluntly.

"I'm not allowed to admit anyone without permission," he said. "Anyone can claim to be his grandmother."

Molly's eyes flashed. "If you don't step aside and let me enter that room, I will make it so that stepping, or even walking, in the future is something you'll need to plan hours in advance to do."

"Look, lady—"

"What's the problem here?" asked an older looking Healer as she approached the group.

"The problem is," Molly yelled, "that my grandson is lying in there hurt and alone and this oaf won't let me enter to see him!"

The Healer looked surprised as she stared at each of the faces of the group. She settled last on Lily's, whose head was currently resting on Ted's shoulder staring back at her. It seemed to dawn on her who the little girl was in relation to Albus—as anyone who read the papers regularly would know— and she immediately looked at the guard. "Let them in."

"But—"

"It's Potter's daughter," she said obviously as she pointed at Lily. "They're not press. They're fine."

"At least someone has some common sense," Molly said harshly as she gave the guard a dirty look. He begrudgingly stepped aside as she pushed through the door to enter. Ted noticed Rose and Hugo made no motion to step forward, and for the first time, he also noticed that Rose had blood on the sleeves of her shirt.

"I'm afraid to see him," Rose said quietly. Hugo nodded in agreement.

Ted set Lily down. "Rose, what happened?"

She turned her gaze on him and started absently fidgeting. "We were at the Burrow, since Grams watches us while mum and dad go to work, and Albus wanted to show us a trick he'd learned on his broom."

Lily let out a sniffle.

"He flew it up to the roof and then he said he was going to jump on it and perform some Quidditch trick."

"A Splitzer loop," Hugo offered quietly as he stared at the ground. "He wanted to show us he could do it."

"Well, he jumped," she continued, "and he flew a bit so that he was about a story off the ground, but then in the middle of the trick he tried to stand on the broom and he slipped. He fell to the ground."

Lily started to cry again and turned to bury her face into Ted's side.

"He split his head open," Rose added in a shaken tone. "Probably broke some bones, but there was blood…" Her voice cracked. "I tried to help him, but he wasn't responding."

Hugo reached over and patted his sister on the shoulder as she turned and slunk down the length of the wall into a sitting position. He turned to Ted. "Grams found out and got him here really fast, but…" He abruptly stopped speaking and sat down next to his sister.

Ted took a deep breath and glanced down at Lily. "Hey, why don't you sit with Rose and Hugo for a bit? I'm going to check on your brother."

She nodded and immediately went and plopped down next to Rose. He glanced at the three of them before turning and entering the room where Molly and the Healer who had let them enter were standing over the bed that a very pale and bandaged Albus lay in. He was completely unconscious.

Ted almost found himself choking up at the site of how small and helpless he looked, but took a deep breath instead. "He's okay, right?"

"He will be," said the Healer. "He's got a concussion and a fractured skull, six broken ribs, and a broken left arm and wrist. His broken bones and fracture should be healed by morning and his head trauma should be fairly minimal, but we're going to monitor him." She smiled. "He's a very thick headed young man."

Ted laughed a little. "I feel like I've been telling him that since he was a baby."

She smiled and turned to leave the room, just as Molly took a nearby seat and muttered, "Oh, thank goodness. I was so worried. I can't believe…" She started rubbing his eyes as the door swung open again and in walked Ginny. Her face was the whitest that Ted had ever seen, and the second she saw her son lying in bed, her eyes went blank. Lily had followed in behind her mother and was fearfully peering at her brother from the doorway.

"Oh, Ginny!" Molly said as she stood back up and stared at her daughter. "Thank goodness you're here."

"Is he…?" She stopped and walked over to Albus's bedside before putting her hand over her mouth as she took him in. She reached out and touched his face.

"They'll say he'll be fine," Ted said quietly. "He just had a bad fall."

She looked at Ted as if she'd just noticed he was even there. She turned to her mother with the same expression before looking back at her son. "Is Harry—?"

"I haven't seen him," Molly said as she stepped up to the opposite side of the bed and gazed down upon Albus as well.

"Me either," Ted added.

"He was on assignment today," Ginny said quietly. "He wasn't in the office."

"I'm sure he'll be here as soon as he gets word," Ted said just as Albus's Healer reentered the room. Ginny's eyes immediately rounded on her.

"Mrs. Potter," she said with a cordial smile. "I'm sorry for—"

"How is my son?" she asked without hesitation.

She continued to smile. "We expect him to be fine given the examination charm. His bones should heal nicely and we just have to wait for him to wake up to do any further examinations."

"When will he wake up?"

The Healer's face grew a little more serious. "We can't be sure."

Lily started crying from the doorway again as Ginny turned to her before looking back at Albus. As she stared down at her youngest son, her eyes looked as if they'd aged five years in five minutes. Ted felt as if he should give her some time alone with him and her mother. He glanced at Lily. "I'm going to take the kids around."

Ginny looked up at him, but it didn't even look as if she registered what he'd said. Molly nodded though, and he turned and grabbed Lily by the hand as he reentered the hallway. Rose and Hugo were still sitting where they had been left.

"Come on, gang," he said as he nodded towards the lifts. "Want a little tour?"

"Of the hospital?" Hugo asked skeptically.

He shrugged. "Tell you what. I'll buy you some Cauldron Cakes up in the hospital shop."

Hugo smiled and stood up. Ted reached out to offer Rose his hand to help her up, which she slowly took. As she did though, both she and Ted's eyes settled on her bloody sleeve.

"Hold on," he said as he pulled out his wand and mumbled a cleaning spell on her shirt. The blood stain lifted immediately.

"Thank you," she said.

Ted led them towards the lifts and up to the fifth floor to the tearoom. He bought them all snacks and sat them down at a table while curious onlookers took in Lily. The news of Harry Potter's son being bedridden downstairs had likely made its way around the hospital now; people were probably on the lookout for signs of Harry himself.

"Is Al going to be okay?" Hugo asked with his mouth full of Cauldron Cakes.

"He's going to be fine," Ted said as he picked at Lily's cake that she hadn't yet touched. "Not hungry, Lil?"

She shook her head. "Not really."

"He's going to be fine," Ted said seriously as he looked into her bloodshot brown eyes. "I promise you."

"How do you know?"

"Because. I know everything."

She smiled a little. "You do not."

He grinned. "Do too. I'm very clever."

"But that doesn't mean you know everything," Rose interjected.

Ted smiled at her, too. She had always been such a literal kid. "Well, I know this," he added. "In a few days time, he'll be back to being the same old Al that we all know and love."

"I hope so," Lily said as she pulled her elbows onto the table. "I don't even care if he teases me. I just want him to be okay."

Ted reached over and squeezed the back of her neck affectionately before checking his watch. He'd just started his shift a little over an hour ago and he hadn't so much as given mention as to where he vanished off to. He'd probably get yelled at if Herbertson found out, but at the moment he didn't care. All he currently cared about was whether or not he could make due on all of these promises he was making about Albus being okay.

They sat in the tearoom for over an hour. Ted had found some paper and crayons for the kids to draw with, but only Hugo and Lily took advantage of it and challenged each other to see who could draw the most accurate picture of the old tearoom cashier. Rose had been far more interested in asking Ted all about how the hospital worked, which turned into a conversation about potions and how much she knew about them…And she knew a lot.

"I've been studying them," she said proudly as her mood increased the more she talked about it. "I'm going to Hogwarts this year, so I've been trying to read ahead so that I can be prepared. You can quiz me."

Ted smiled curiously. "Okay. What goes in a Shrinking Solution?"

"Shrivelfig, daisy root, caterpillar, rat spleen, and leech juice," she said as if he'd just asked her what her name was. "I don't know the accurate measurements though, just the ingredients."

He furrowed his brow impressively. "How much have you been reading?"

"She reads all the time," Hugo said, rolling his eyes.

"I like to read," Lily said as her mood also appeared generally happier. "Not textbooks, though. I like stories."

"Well," Ted began, "Rose, we're hiring, so if you're looking for work…"

"I'm only eleven," she said obviously.

He smiled. "Right."

Just then, Hugo suddenly yelled, "Dad!" and everyone turned. He and Rose both leaped out of their chairs and raced across the room to greet their father, who gave them both quick hugs while continuing to walk towards Ted.

"Hey, Teddy," Ron said in a tired voice before he reached out to give Lily a playful little tap. "How are you holding up in there, Lil?"

She shrugged.

"Is Harry here?" Ted asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, we got the owl and he was gone in a flash. He's been here for a while now, but I just got here."

"Any new news?"

"Al still isn't awake yet, but they keep claiming he should be fine." He shrugged. "We'll see, though..." He turned back towards the kids. "I'm taking everyone home. You too, Lil. You're staying with us tonight."

"Why?" she asked as she looked up at him.

"Both your mum and your dad are staying here until your brother wakes up." He glanced at Ted. "Thanks for watching them."

"No problem," he said, standing as well.

Ron gave him a smile that he quickly turned on to Hugo. "All right, let's pick up some lunch. You kids are probably starving."

Hugo made a face. "I'm not hungry. I've just had about a hundred Cauldron Cakes."

"A hundred?" Ron asked with fake enthusiasm. "I think that's a new Weasley family record!"

"It wasn't really a hundred, Dad," said Rose. "It was more like seven. He's exaggerating."

"He's exaggerating…" Ron repeated to Ted with an amused smirk. "I would have never guessed." He turned and gestured to all the kids. "Say bye to Teddy, then. And be sure to thank him for stuffing you full of food your mum wouldn't approve of for lunch."

Rose and Hugo thanked him as Lily hugged him tightly before rushing off to catch up with her cousins and uncle. He watched them leave before deciding that it was probably a good idea to go back upstairs and get back to work. He made his way to the lab on the second floor and was immediately greeted by a curious looking Paul.

"Where the hell did you go?"

Ted shook his head. "Sort of a family emergency."

"Well," he said as he gestured to the cook station. Ted proceeded to walk over to where he had been working earlier, and noticed a foul odor being emitted from the cauldron he had been using. "Your Strengthening Solution went to shit."

Ted covered his mouth and nose to shield himself from the stench. "I see that."

"Just one of those days…" Paul said in a sing-song tone.


	23. Broken Heads

Albus turned out to be fine. The following day, as Ted arrived for his six o'clock shift that morning, he had stopped by Albus's room to see if there was any progress, only to find him sitting up in bed, flipping through a hospital pamphlet on proper household wound remedies. Harry and Ginny were both sound asleep and looking fairly uncomfortable on a small sofa that was set against the wall, and when Albus noticed Ted enter, he quickly raised his finger to his lips, as if to indicate for him to be quiet. He pointed to his parents before smiling.

"How are you feeling, mate?" Ted asked.

"I've got a headache," he whispered, "but okay, I guess. I don't even remember what happened."

"You weren't thinking properly," he said, "that's what happened. What possessed you to jump off the roof?"

He shrugged. "I don't remember." He looked around the room. "It's so boring in here."

"How long have you been awake?"

"A couple of minutes. How long was I asleep?"

"Almost a whole day," he said. "And you were concussed, not asleep."

Albus looked at Ted as if he was speaking a foreign language. "I was what?"

"Nevermind," he said with a smile before he glanced at Harry and Ginny. "I think we should wake them."

"But they're sleeping," he said. "Or wait, are they concussed, too?"

"No, they're sleeping," Ted said, raising his voice to its regular volume, "but they've been waiting for you to wake up."

"They have?"

"They were worried," he said. "We all were."

"I'm fine," he said dismissively.

As he said it, Ginny began to stir herself awake and squinted towards the bed. It only took her a second to realize that Albus was awake before she suddenly bolted upright. Harry stammered awake in a disoriented daze.

"Al!" She stood and rushed to his side. "Sweetheart, you're awake." She leaned forward to kiss him on the top of the head.

"Of course I am," he said obviously. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Harry had joined Ginny and was smiling down at his son with a groggy look in his eyes, his glasses crooked on his face. Neither of them looked as if they'd slept very well, but they both seemed tremendously relieved to see Albus awake and well. Albus, however, didn't seem to understand the fuss and was more interested in the scar that the Healer told him he would have on the top of his head from where it had cracked open. He was rather disappointed to know that as long as he had hair, no one else would see it.

Albus's accident had been the icing on a very strange couple of weeks for Ted. However, shortly after it had happened, things for him seemed to fall back into their more normal pace. It was as if he'd awoken from a very strange dream. A dream he was more than happy to have awoken from, especially considering that he really didn't need the excess weirdness in his life at the moment. As it were, he had bigger things to focus on.

"Hey," Nate had said in a loud whisper as he rushed past Ted at his desk and swatted him to get his attention. "Guess what?"

Ted starred up from the patient forms he had been filling in. "What?"

"We've got a new hire coming in tomorrow. Magda told me Herbertson got some kid fresh out of Hogwarts coming in for orientation. Whether they stay is an altogether different story, but this could be good."

Ted smiled lazily. "I hope they stay. I'm counting on two days in a row off in August, and if we've got extra hands around here, I might be able to swing it."

Nate leaned against a nearby cabinet. "What do you need two days off for? Going somewhere?"

Ted swung around in his chair so that he was facing Nate head on. He grinned smugly. "Quidditch World Cup."

"You git! You got tickets?!"

He nodded. "And I will kill and maul if necessary so that I can go. I will work day in and day out for the next month and a half if it means I can get those two days off."

Nate let out a groan. "I'd kill for tickets. They're really hard to find since it's the first time Britain's had it since back in the 90's."

Ted turned back around in his chair and put his quill back down on the form he'd been logging. "Tell me about it. It's the bright spot in my summer given that I know the rest of it will be spent wasting away here." He gestured around the room.

"You lucky bastard…" Nate mumbled as he took a few steps away from Ted's desk, though returned just a moment later. "Hey, you're a Wasps fan aren't you?"

"That I am," he said distractedly as he finished up the form in front of him.

"A mate of mine has an extra ticket to see them tonight," he said. "Are you interested?"

Ted stopped writing and looked up at him. There was very little in the world that could make him turn down a free Quidditch ticket—let alone a Wasps ticket—but as it were, one of the few things that could make him say no happened to be planned for that evening.

"Wish I could," he said as he returned to writing, "but I've got plans."

"So, cancel them!" he said. "The Wasps are on fire right now. I thought you were a fan?"

"I know, but," he shrugged, "I can't."

"You better have a date with the most fit girl alive or something," Nate said as he walked off and crossed the room to his desk. "Anything less is just stupid."

Ted didn't challenge Nate's claim or feel the need to elaborate on it, but in a sense, Nate had hit the nail on the head. It wasn't a date of course—or anything along those lines—but it did happen to be a chance for him to see Victoire since she was home for only a few days before she left for France. Given that he'd been working the late shift the past two nights, tonight was the only night left that he had the chance.

He hadn't mentioned to her that he'd be stopping by, in part because he was still debating whether or not he should. He'd spent the last two days contemplating whether going to see her before she left was the right thing to do. He knew that the less he saw of her, the less he'd have to face the feelings he was attempting to ignore; at the same time, she was still his friend. It would be rude, not to mention strange, to ignore her completely on account of him not knowing how to deal with things. Plus, as much as he didn't want to admit it, a bigger part of him really wanted to see her. He'd been carrying an anticipatory sort of excitement around with him all day. It had grown to the point that every time he thought about seeing her, he found himself smiling before he even knew he was doing it. He knew that having this sort of reaction wasn't making things easier, and it also meant he was doing a piss poor job of getting himself over her, but for today, he didn't care.

The plan was set to go over and see her tonight. The two of them could hang out for a few hours before she left for a month and he could test himself around her. He still wasn't sure how things would feel when he was face to face with her, but he didn't doubt it would be awkward. He tried to tell himself that even if he saw her differently, it was still just Victoire. She hadn't changed and was still going to be the same person as always. That was all there was to it. There was no reason to worry.

Still, later that night as he came face to face with the Weasleys' front door, he felt a certain apprehensiveness in his stomach that both unnerved and excited him. He took a deep breath as he lifted his hand to knock quickly; stepping back immediately as though something would jump back and bite him. He began bouncing slightly on the spot as he ran his hand through his hair to straighten it out. The second he heard the door crack open, he immediately dropped his hand to his side and forced a smile.

Bill Weasley appeared on the other side and grinned as he noticed him. "Hey, Teddy."

"Hey, Bill. How are you?" he said as Bill stepped aside to let him enter. Out of anxious habit, he did a sweep of the room with his eyes. Other than Bill, only Fleur and Louis were visible in the adjoining kitchen. They looked as if they were sorting through laundry.

"Good, you know," he said casually. "How have you been?"

"Good, yeah," Ted said quickly as he shoved his hands into his pockets. Just as he did, Louis entered with his hands full of neatly laundered clothes.

"Hey, Ted," Louis said as he walked towards the stairs. "What's going on?"

"I was just stopping by before you guys headed off to France. Victoire mentioned she'd be around."

"Oh," he said as he started climbing up to the second level. "Yeah, well, hold on. I'll tell her you're here."

"So, hey," Bill said once Louis disappeared up the stairs, "I hear you were at the hospital when they took Albus in. Mum said there was some real piece of work standing guard outside of his room that she almost hexed."

Ted grinned. "Calling him a piece of work would be an understatement. This guy was a complete and utter arsehole."

Bill laughed. "I mean, I know they're Harry's kids and there's always a risk for reporters and stuff, but a guard outside of the hospital room?" He shook his head. "It seems like a bit much."

"Very little hospital policy actually makes sense to me," Ted said with a lazy laugh. "This is why I work hidden away in the back—"

"Hiiii, Ted," said a sing-song sounding voice from above. He looked up and noticed that it was Dominique. Both she and Victoire were standing at the top of the stairs staring down at him. Dominique was grinning widely, but Victoire only smiled a little as he made eye contact with her. He couldn't help but notice that she wasn't done up like he'd gotten used to seeing her lately, but rather dressed down in jeans and a t-shirt. She looked rather relaxed, which, in turn, made her look less intimidating. She didn't look like the unattainable girl who was widely admired, but instead, she just looked normal. For a fleeting moment, Ted thought that maybe he really was overestimating her. She really was just Victoire.

"Hey, Nicki," he said before turning his gaze to Victoire. "Hey, Vic."

"Hi," Victoire said with a quick smile. "Um, what are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "Since you're all leaving tomorrow, I thought I'd stop by and say hey."

"Oh, how very sweet," Dominique said loudly.

Victoire cast her sister a look before stepping in front of her. She smiled down at him. "You can come up, you know."

"Yes, Ted," Dominique said as she poked her head over his sister's shoulder. "Come on up!"

He caught Bill's eye and nodded as if excusing himself before taking to the stairs. Dominique had chosen that moment to come down the stairs, but stopped as they met halfway. As he came face to face with her, he realized that her smile was almost strange. She seemed very amused by something.

"My, my, Ted. Have you gotten taller?"

"No," he said with a curious laugh. "Why?"

"You just seem different." She smiled wider. "Perhaps you're just getting better looking is all."

He stared at her with a puzzled expression. This was a very un-Dominique-like comment under any circumstance. "Thanks?" he said as she let out a small giggle and continued downstairs. He glanced at Victoire and just caught her expression changing from stern to a friendlier looking smile. Apparently, everyone was in an odd mood tonight. "What's up with her?" he asked, gesturing down towards Dominique.

"It's more like what's wrong with her?" Victoire said in a purposely loud tone as she looked down the stairs. When she focused back on him, she smiled. It made Ted involuntarily smile as well and they both stood there staring at each other.

Even though he was probably reading more into the situation than necessary, a sudden urge overcame him to do something that would stop him from staring at her like an idiot. Her arm was inches away from his hand, so he reached out and tapped it. "So, what's up?" he asked. "Packing?"

"Yeah," she said as she quickly stared down at where he'd just touched her. She stared at it for a moment before taking an awkward step around him towards her room. The moment she had looked away, Ted immediately wondered what had possessed him to make such a stupid gesture. Why had he tapped her? Out of everything he could think of, he decided to tap her? What was that? He rolled his eyes, just as Victoire suddenly said, "Sorry, it's messy."

He turned and saw that her usually meticulously clean room now looked as if a herd of hippogriffs had come stomping through. Apparently to Victoire, packing meant that she had to unload all her worldly possession in a large pile around her room.

"I can see that," he said.

She grinned a little as he carefully high-stepped his way towards the bed in an attempt to not step on anything. He managed to get to the bed and move a stack of books in order to make room to sit.

"Are you taking your entire closet?" he asked as he picked up the first book from the pile he had just moved—her sixth year Transfiguration textbook— and started absently flipping through it.

"Not the whole thing," she said as she sat on the floor folding clothes and placing them in her trunk, "but it's a month in France. I need to be prepared."

"Looks more like a year," he said, leaning his back against the wall that her bed happened to be propped against.

"Well, that would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"No," he mumbled almost too quickly. "Anyway, who wants to stay in France for that long?"

"I think it'd be enjoyable," she said with a thoughtful pause. "But I'd probably get homesick."

"You definitely would." He glanced at her. "You're a ridiculous homebody."

"I'm not that bad," she said as she folded a shirt and placed it in her trunk.

He smirked to himself and thought of the countless number of times Victoire had come whining to him about being homesick while at school. "I cannot count the number of times you came to me at school saying how much you missed your parents, your house, your bed…" He put his hand down and felt the bed underneath him. It was actually very soft and quite comfortable. He would probably miss this too, come to think of it. "I can't blame you on that one though, because it is comfy. I could easily sleep on this."

The second after he said it he realized that he had probably sounded weird. Who says that? He silently scolded himself before glancing at Victoire. She was smiling, but wasn't looking at him; instead she was concentrating on folding her clothes. She almost looked like she wanted to laugh, which only made him feel like a bigger idiot.

"So, I haven't told you about what happened at school with Colleen Lynch," she said suddenly.

He furrowed his brow. That phrase never preceded anything good. "Do I want to know?"

She smiled. "I probably shouldn't think this is funny, but," she paused for dramatic effect, "I stunned her in the middle of the common room."

Ted's jaw dropped, though he wasn't sure he believed her. "You're lying."

She shook her head. "We got in a huge fight. Nicki was in on it, too, and Colleen pulled out her wand and the next thing I know she's firing off spells at us. Nicki gets hit, so I disarm Colleen and she keeps running her mouth and then," she shrugged and mimicked pointed her wand at him, "Stupefy."

He stared at her. If this was true, he was suddenly extremely turned on. He wasn't even sure why, but just the idea of it all was very hot. "You're serious?"

She nodded.

He continued to stare at her for much longer than he normally would have, but he was using the premise of thoughtfully considering what she had just said to mask the fact that he just wanted to look at her. He wanted to steal the extra seconds while he could get away with it. All he could think about was how she was far too attractive for her own good. Her face, her eyes, her nose, her hair, her lips, the small scar she had just above her eyebrow from where her sister had hit her in the head with a block when she was seven…everything about her was attractive. How had he not seen all of this before? And how was he supposed to actually ignore it now that he did see it?

"You are incredible," he said as he chose his words particularly. He had meant for the words to have a secret double meaning, but was content in knowing that she didn't realize it. He laughed a little and looked away. "Seriously, you are amazing. Good for you. No one in the world deserved it more than she does since she's a complete bitch. It's about time she got her comeuppance. If you got to be the one to give it to her, all the better."

She was smiling at him as he spoke. It was the same smile that reminded him of the night in his flat and also that night at her grandparents'. She really needed to stop smiling at him like that or else he was going to have to rethink his whole idea of not saying anything to her about how he felt. That smile was almost hypnotic. It was probably capable of making him do something stupid. Like walk over and kiss her where she sat.

He turned away before he did do something stupid, but quickly glanced back and noticed her face was starting to flush. "You okay?" he asked. "Your face is all red."

She looked down and stood a moment later. "Oh, yeah, it's just really hot in here. Really, really hot…"

"Is it?" he asked absently as he noticed that he was still holding her textbook in his hand. He tossed it to the side and picked up a small rubber ball that happened to be lying among the other junk on her bed. He tossed it up and caught it a few times as Victoire turned and busied herself with pulling more items out of her closet. He glanced up at her once she wasn't looking.

For what seemed like the hundredth time—he'd stopped counting—he wondered what her reaction would be if he just said something. What would the worst thing that could happen be? Almost anything was better than constantly being strung between convincing himself that he didn't want to fancy her and convincing himself that he did. Having peace of mind would be worth the admission alone.

He glanced back down at the ball in his hand and started turning it between his fingers. Perhaps he could work his way around the issue. What if he hypothetically brought the subject up and gauged her reaction? All he would have to do is make it seem as though the idea was completely imaginary and not at all serious. Not at all. Not even a little bit.

"So, what are you going to get me while you're in France?" he asked, wondering how he could go about this.

She turned around and faced him with a curious expression. "You want me to bring you back something?"

He shrugged and continued turning the ball in his hands. He suddenly remembered her promise to him in his birthday letter. "Sure. You still owe me a birthday present."

"True," she said with a smile. "What do you want me to bring you?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you," he said as he threw the ball up into the air and caught it. "You're supposed to surprise me."

"You could give me an idea," she suggested. "If I could give you anything in the world—the entire world—what would that thing be?"

He smiled and looked at the ball in his hand once more. The obvious answer was her, but he couldn't answer with that. He tried racking his brain for an answer that would steer itself towards his hypothetical scenario, and suddenly thought of suggesting a very cute half-French girl. All he had to do was say it to get the ball rolling. When he opened his mouth to speak though, the words didn't seem to want to come. The only word that did managed to come out was, "Nevermind."

"No. What?"

"It's nothing," he said as he caught the ball and shrugged.

"Tell me."

"I can't tell you," he said with a small laugh.

"Since when can't we tell each other things?"

That was the big question, wasn't it? The answer was of course since he'd fallen for her, but like most of the other things he wanted to say to her, he couldn't. "Because," he said as he continued to avoid her eyes. "I'm not sure why I can't tell you, but I just can't."

She stared at him. "What does that mean?"

"I don't even know." He smiled and looked at her. "Just forget about it. I shouldn't have said anything."

She laughed. "You didn't say anything!"

"And that's my problem," he mumbled before he knew what he was saying. Victoire was gazing at him with a puzzled expression, and he suddenly felt it get very hot. She'd been right, it was hot in there. He sat up straight and glanced towards the half open door, where Louis was in the hall headed towards the stairs. He needed someone else around before he made things any more awkward for himself. "Hey, Louis!"

Louis stopped abruptly and turned towards Victoire's room. He poked his head in. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Ted said with a shrug. "Just seeing what you were up to." He took the ball he had been tossing around and, for no real reason, threw it at Louis. He caught it with little effort.

"Oh," Louis said, looking a little confused, but throwing the ball back nonetheless. Ted caught it and noticed that Victoire was watching the two of them play catch with an odd expression on her face. Still, it didn't stop him from throwing the ball back at Louis.

As Louis caught it, he stood back and looked as though he was going to chuck the ball back with all his might. At the last moment, he seemed to think better of it given the closed confines of the room; instead he lobbed it towards Victoire's dresser. The ball barely missed a hideous little clown figurine that she had sitting on top.

"If either of you break something…" she said suddenly.

"We're not going to break anything," Louis said, shaking his head.

"Not accidentally, at least," Ted said, smiling as he glanced up at the clown. "Of course, if that ugly little clown thing happens to get hit—"

Louis laughed. "Does that scare you, too?!"

"It's horrifying," Ted said, giving it an unsettling look. "I swear I've had nightmares about that thing since I was a kid."

"You have not," Victoire said as she rolled her eyes but continued to smile.

"It's his creepy clown smile," Louis mumbled. "It looks demonic."

"You're both making this up," she said. "Papa Delacour bought me that in Paris when I was a baby. I love it."

"Yes, but you're a freak," Louis said, tossing the ball to Ted and missing him by several feet. It bounced off Victoire's desk, nearly missing her lamp.

"Okay, stop," she said.

Both Ted and Louis shared amused grins and tried to hide their laughter, as Ted snatched at the ball and placed it down beside him to demonstrate that he was being good.

Victoire rolled her eyes. "You're both acting like you're ten." She stood up and headed towards the hallway. "Can I leave you unsupervised while I go grab something, or should I wait?"

Ted smiled. "We'll be good."

"Try not to break anything," she said, returning his smile in a way that again made him want to rethink being such a coward. Something in his head was telling him to man-up and say something to her. She was going to France tomorrow and if she didn't feel the same, they'd have a month to get over things and work on getting back to normal. He could move on and she could go on to Marseilles and find some French pretty boy to cuddle up to and…He stopped and forced the thought out of his head. He didn't even want to think about that.

"She has so much shit," Louis said as he took a seat on the edge of Victoire's trunk and started poking through some of the things on the floor.

"Funny how she's usually so neat," Ted said absently.

"I know, it's almost weird," he said once he picked up a large bundle of various papers. He was trying to look into the center of the bundle to see what they were exactly when Victoire returned.

"Nosy, much?" she asked him.

"Do you save every letter ever written to you?" he asked as he held up the bundle in his hand.

"Pretty much," she said, grabbing at the one he was holding and chucking it onto her bed next to Ted. He glanced at it and could just recognize the writing on the outside of one of the letters. It was in his handwriting, which made him smile as he realized she'd kept them all. Years worth of letters.

"You've always saved everything," Ted said, turning his gaze towards the ceiling where a small black singe mark resided just above the bed. It triggered his memory to recall "Fireball Day."

"How do you fit it all in your trunk?" Louis asked as he continued to poke through her things. "Shrinking Charm?"

"I'm an excellent packer," she said, faking a pompous tone. "Now where are my sandals?"

"Probably under all of this shit," Louis offered, though Victoire ignored him and instead disappeared into her closet, presumably in search of her sandals. "I'll give you this though, Vic. For someone with so much crap, you really are rather neat."

"Thanks," she said from somewhere inside the closet. She'd disappeared completely inside.

Louis continued sorting through her things, examining several sheets of parchment before discarding them and moving on to the next. He stopped on one particularly crumbled piece and held it up. "Hey Ted, this has your name on it."

"Let me see," Ted said as Louis handed it to him and went about finding other things to examine. He took it and began smoothing out the creases in order to see what was on it. It looked like a letter Victoire had written him, but obviously never sent.

Ted,

I've gone mad. I'm convinced of it. I'm sitting here trying to write you a letter for your birthday and I can't do it. I can't write you a simple birthday greeting. You're probably wondering why it's even a struggle (how hard is it to scribble Happy Birthday down and send it off in the post?), but that's where me going mad comes into play. I've gone mad and I can't phrase a simple letter to you because I can't get the words right (have any of these words been right yet?). Everything I think I should write seems so trivial and corny, and everything I want to write seems so intense and out of place for a letter. If I don't get this out though, I may very well explode. I can't concentrate properly and I'm blaming you.

"Found them," Victoire said as she emerged from her closet, though Ted was barely paying attention.

I'm not sure how it happened. Perhaps it was always there and I chose to ignore it, but I'm not ignoring it anymore. You're my best friend and I don't want to lose you, but I also want more. I don't even know if you want more, but if I don't at least try I'll never know.

I told you I've gone mad.

"Where did you get...?" he heard Victoire ask before she suddenly lunged at him. He reacted much quicker than she did however, and turned his back on her so he could continue reading.

"What's wrong?" Louis asked, but Ted had completely tuned them out.

What I'm trying to say is that I think I've gone and fallen for you. Actually, I know I have. Fairly hard even. The sort of falling that makes me think about you all the time and wonder what you're doing even though I have a hundred other things I should be worrying about.

"You can't read that!" she yelled as he felt her trying to reach around him in an attempt to get at what he was reading. He barely realized she was there, though. All he cared about was finishing this letter.

So I thought you should know. You yourself have always told me I have a tendency to fall for wankers so I suppose it was only a matter of time until I fell for you (I really hope you laughed at that). This time though, I really feel like I've fallen for the right one…and it's terrifying and exciting at the same time.

Happy birthday.

Love,

Victoire

"Ted!" Victoire yelled, but still he barely heard her. Both Louis and she had been speaking, but their tones were fuzzy and distant. Somehow, somewhere along the way, Victoire had stopped trying to grab at the letter, but anything other than the words on this piece of parchment seemed completely lost on him.

He stared at the letter in his hand. I've gone and fallen for you. He read the line ten times, his mind swimming. She had fallen for him. She fancied him. She couldn't stop thinking about him. She…Him…What? His mind could barely process what was happening.

He swallowed hard and turned back around, but still didn't look up right away. He wasn't even sure what he had just read was real, but yet here it was in his hand; the ink still present and the message still clear.

"Vic, are you okay?" he managed to hear Louis ask, which jolted him to his senses. He immediately looked up at her. She was staring at him, looking mortified. Her face was red, her breathing was heavy, and her eyes were as wide as saucers. He didn't know what to say exactly, but a thousand possibilities were currently running through his head. All he wanted to do was kick Louis out so he could say them.

At that moment, however, she quickly broke eye contact and tore away from her brother, who, Ted just noticed, had been holding her arm. In an instant, she was gone from the room and only the sounds of her footsteps down the stairs were left to even indicate she'd been there at all.

"What the hell?" Louis asked, glancing at Ted. "What's gotten into her?"

"I—I don't know," he said absently as he immediately stood and followed after her. As he reached the stairs, he saw Dominique standing at the front door and looking outside while her mother was looking out the front window.

"Where'd she go?" Ted asked.

"What happened?" Fleur asked, but Ted had already pushed his way past Dominique and out onto the porch. Dominique had followed, and they both walked out into the yard and peered through the darkness. Victoire was nowhere to be found. It was too dark for her to have ventured anywhere nearby, which only meant one thing. She had Apparated away.

"She just ran out of the house," Dominique said as Ted took a defeated breath and glanced at her. She was shaking her head at him. "What did you do?"


	24. A Found Letter

What makes you think I—?" Ted began to ask Dominique, but just then, Louis and Bill appeared by his side.

"She left?" Louis asked in a surprised sounding tone. "She actually left?"

"She wouldn't have…" Bill said as he started walking towards the side of the house in search of her. "She would have said something."

"Is she okay?" Fleur called from the front door. "What is happening?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Dominique said as she crossed her arms and stared from Ted to Louis.

Ted scanned the yard as far as his eyes would let him. Victoire had actually run off. Just like that. She'd disappeared without a moment's notice. It was essentially the worst thing she could have done after he'd read that letter. He wanted to talk to her. He needed to talk to her.

"Where would she have gone?" he asked no one in particular.

Louis shrugged as Bill returned after having circled the house. "She's nowhere."

"What do you mean?" Fleur asked once she joined them on the lawn. "She is nowhere?"

"She must have Apparated away," Bill said with a stony expression.

"She, what!?" Fleur yelled, her eyes narrowing. "She knows better zan to Apparate away without telling us! Where would she have gone?"

"I'm guessing Whit's house," Dominique said before taking a step closer to the group. "I can't think of anywhere else she would have randomly run off to."

"Where does Whit live?" Ted asked quickly. All he needed was an address and he'd go track her down himself.

She shook her head and looked at Louis. "Do you know, Lou?"

"Why would I know?"

"I don't know. She's dating your best friend, so you might—"

He made a face. "It's never come up," he said sarcastically. "It's not as if I go on their dates with them, Nic."

She glared at him. "Don't be a prat. I said you might—"

"Stop," Fleur said, throwing a silencing look at both of her children. "I would like to know what happened."

Everyone looked at Ted as he stood there staring from face to face. What exactly was he supposed to tell them? Victoire had gotten upset because he had read a letter confessing her feelings for him? He didn't feel like he should have to tell anyone that. In fact, he didn't even care about telling them anything. All he wanted to do was find Victoire and talk to her.

"We were in her room talking," Louis began before all eyes shifted to him, "and I found some letter with Ted's name on it that Victoire had written him, so I gave it to him. He started reading it and Victoire went mental when she saw it. She was trying to snatch it away to the point where she was jumping on him and I had to pull her off him."

Bill and Fleur glanced at Ted, as if looking for conformation of this. He nodded his head slowly, even though he barely remembered any of what Louis had just described. The only thought he was even entertaining at the moment was what he had read in that letter.

"What was in this letter?" Bill asked. "What made her get so upset?"

"That I don't know," Louis said, looking at Ted. "Ted would know."

"It was nothing," Ted lied. He quickly looked away from Bill and settled his eyes on Dominique. She was staring at him curiously, as though she was studying his face. "It was just your run of the mill sort of letter. I don't know why she would have gotten upset."

"It had to say something," Fleur said obviously.

"Do you still have it?" Louis asked.

Ted stared at him blankly. "Have what?"

"The letter."

"Oh," he said as he glanced up at the house. He did in fact still have the letter. It was currently sitting in his pocket where he had shoved it on his way down the stairs after Victoire, but there was no way he was letting anyone else see it. That was private. It had already been made less private than Victoire had ever intended it to be by him reading it. He wasn't going to further things by sharing his and her business with her entire family. "No, I think I dropped it upstairs. It could be anywhere in all of that stuff."

"This is not like Victoire," Bill said before he turned towards the house. "Running off without so much as a word…"

"She had better owl us," Fleur said, turning and following him. "I do not know what has gotten into her lately. First, stunning people at school and now…" Her voice became fainter as she and Bill distanced themselves and disappeared back into the house. Ted turned and looked around the group. Dominique was still staring at him.

Louis shrugged. "Do you think she was mad because I held her back? I was afraid I might have hurt her, but she was doing it to herself what with all that struggling."

"What?" Ted asked in a dazed tone as he continued to think about what he'd read in that letter. He didn't even know what Louis was talking about.

"When I held her back because she was going mental on you," he added. "You know? When I pulled her off you?"

Ted shook his head. "I didn't even notice."

He laughed. "How did you not notice? She was practically on top of you!"

Ted took a few steps towards the house. "I was preoccupied," he mumbled. He needed to clear his head. If he couldn't figure out where she was, he had every intention of staying here and waiting for her to return. There was no way he was letting her run off to France for a month without sorting this out.

"So, let me get this straight," Dominique said, trailing several paces behind Ted. "You found this letter," she paused for effect, "and you gave it to Ted to read?"

"Yeah," Louis said. Ted realized she was talking to him.

"And he read it," she continued. "Then Victoire got upset because he was reading it?"

"I guess so."

"And when she tried to get the letter away from him, you held her back?"

"Right."

"What was she doing when you found this letter?"

"I don't know," Louis said. "She wasn't in the room…" He stopped. "No, wait. She was in her closet. Yeah. She was in there looking for something."

They reached the house and Ted turned to see Dominique quizzically starting at her brother. "So, you were going through her stuff when you shouldn't have been?"

Louis stared back at her from the entrance hall. "She knew I was. I mean, she saw me."

"But you had no right to read her stuff."

"I didn't read anything," he said defensively. "Ted did."

"He wouldn't have read it if you hadn't given it to him!"

"I didn't know he wasn't supposed to!"

"Even if he was supposed to," she said, her eyes flashing in a way that reminded Ted of Victoire's when she was mad, "that's not your call to make, Louis."

Louis stared at her as though she was insane. "Why do you even care? You're acting like something terrible happened when even Ted said it was nothing. Right, Ted?"

Ted didn't say anything. Between his mind swimming with thoughts of Victoire's feelings being the same as his, the fact that she ran off before he could tell her this, and these two arguing, he had nothing to add.

"If Victoire wanted him to read it," Dominique said in a harsh tone, "she would have given it to him herself. I mean, don't you think there's a reason it was in with all of her stuff instead of in his possession?"

"Stop acting like this is a big deal," Louis said dismissively before he turned and walked into the kitchen. "I swear, Nic, you're acting as mental as Victoire."

Ted's ear perked up at this. This actually was a big deal, and the fact that Dominique was acting as such was definitely curious. Did she have an idea about what had happened, or was she just feeling especially overprotective of Victoire? The latter seemed strange since she usually enjoyed seeing Victoire put into awkward situations. Dominique was usually the first person to claim that Victoire was overreacting to something stupid, yet here she was trying to justify her actions. It was as though she knew more than she was letting on.

"I am not acting mental," Dominique said to her brother. "I just think it's really rude for you to be so careless with someone else's stuff. Maybe she didn't want him seeing that letter, because...because," she stammered as if searching for a word, "because she has her reasons."

Ted cocked his eyebrow at her. She was definitely acting like she knew something.

"Nic," Louis said as he turned around and faced her. "Look at me. It. Is. Not. A. Big. Deal. This is just Victoire being over dramatic. You and I both know how she can get."

"She would never react like this unless it was a big deal!" she practically yelled. "That's what I'm trying to tell you! You're acting like you did nothing wrong and that it's all in her head!"

"Ted, would you tell her it's nothing!" Louis said as he went over to a nearby cupboard and practically threw it open.

Once again, he didn't say anything. He was still staring at Dominique curiously. He wanted to know what she knew, if anything. She wasn't siding with Louis about how Victoire was overreacting, which meant she at least comprehended why Victoire would have gotten this upset. What did she know? Whatever it was, it seemed like more than he did at the moment.

Dominique looked back at Ted for a brief second before she took a deep breath and rounded on her brother once more. In that instant, she started rambling off something in rapid French-something all three of the Weasleys did when they were trying to convey a message to the others without non-French speakers knowing what they were saying. Victoire and Dominique had frequently resulted in this as children when they were trying to keep something secret from Ted, knowing he didn't understand a word of it. He'd always hated it.

"Why are you yelling at me in French now?" Louis asked as he opened a box of crackers he retrieved from the cupboard.

She answered him in French. Her tone was sharp and her expression annoyed.

"This is ridiculous," Louis said, rolling his eyes. With his mouth full, he muttered something back to her in French. What it was, it made him laugh and, in turn, made her even more annoyed.

Ted watched as they went back and forth with this for over a minute. He wasn't sure what was being said, but Dominique must have said something because suddenly Louis said, "How am I supposed to know?"

"Tu es un idiot," she muttered hastily before turning and walking out of the kitchen. Ted glanced at Louis, who was watching her go.

"I hate when you guys do that," Ted said.

"You didn't miss anything," Louis said. He closed the box of crackers he was holding and tossed it back in the counter. "She was just yelling at me." He stretched. "So, are you going to hang out?"

"Uh, yeah, if I can," he said. "I kind of want to talk to Victoire and find out what's…" he hesitated, "wrong with her. You know, before you all head off for a month. Make sure she's not mad."

Louis nodded. "She'll probably be back soon. I can't see her running off for hours."

"I hope not," Ted mumbled, his thoughts returning to the real issue at hand. Victoire fancied him. She actually fancied him. With everything that had happened, he hadn't gotten the chance to properly digest this news, but the more he thought about it, the harder it was to hide his smile. Where the hell had that come from? He hadn't even had the slightest clue that she might feel the same way about him. If he had, he would have said something sooner.

Then again, why didn't she say something to him? She'd written him that letter over two months ago at his birthday, yet she hadn't sent it. She'd sent an entirely different letter. Was there a reason? Maybe she, too, was trying to convince herself that this wasn't something she wanted to pursue. Maybe the risks were just too great. Maybe she had meant it two months ago, but now she'd managed to get over it.

He frowned as he thought of this. Was that why she hadn't wanted him to read it and why she had stormed out so quickly afterwards? The idea of that being the case made his chest hurt. To know she had felt that way, but didn't anymore, was a definite kick to his ego.

"Hey, Ted," Louis yelled from somewhere nearby, which caused Ted to snap out of his thoughts. He hadn't even realized that Louis had left the kitchen. He followed his voice to the living room, where he and Dominique were sitting and seemingly getting along well enough again to listen to a Quidditch match on the Wizard Wireless. Louis looked up at him. "Your Wasps are on."

"Oh, yeah?" Ted asked, the faint image of Nate inviting him to the match earlier that day suddenly ringing in his memory. For some reason, that seemed like ages ago.

"Yeah, they're beating the Tornadoes 190-150 right now," Dominique said lazily as she lay down on the sofa, readying herself to listen. "Though, there's no sign of the Snitch yet."

Louis plopped down on the floor, just as Ted sat on the sofa across from Dominique. His mind was far too preoccupied to concentrate on Quidditch at the moment, but listening to the sound of the Quidditch announcer call the play-by-play action was a welcomed distraction. Still, he couldn't pull his thoughts away from whether or not that letter still meant what it had said. All he wanted was for Victoire to walk through that door right now so that he could ask her if—

"You're going to the World Cup, aren't you Ted?" Louis asked.

"Huh?"

"The World Cup," he repeated. "You're going, right?"

"Oh," he said, glancing out the window, "yeah."

"Are you camping with everybody?"

He turned around and looked at him. He'd heard the question, but it was almost as if he hadn't, as though he needed several extra seconds to process the information before he could answer. "I'm camping with Simon."

"Really?" asked Dominique, tilting her head in his direction.

"That's the plan right now," he said, thinking about Victoire once again. He supposed that if he could talk to her and if she did still feel the same way about him that he might change his plans around. If they worked things out, he'd go wherever she went. "But those plans might change," he added. "I might end up with you guys and everyone else. I'm not sure."

"You might?" Dominique asked with a curious grin.

He stared at her. She was acting entirely too suspicious to not know something. "Yeah, it depends."

She sat up. "What does it depend on?"

He pursed his lips. "A couple of things."

"Like?" she asked as she waved her hand around, gesturing for him to elaborate.

"Why are you asking?"

She shrugged before lying back down. "Just curious as to who"-she turned away from him and back towards the Wireless-"or rather, what, would make you change your mind."

His gaze grew instantly more intensified. He was positive that she knew exactly what this was all about now; he wanted to know what she knew. What had her sister mentioned to her? "Hey, Nicki, can I talk to you for a second?"

She looked back at him. "What's stopping you?"

He glanced at Louis. "In private."

She held his stare for a long moment before turning her head away. "In that case, no."

"No?"

She shook her head and gestured towards the Wireless. "It's a really exciting match. Aren't you a big Wasps fan?"

"I am, but," he bit his bottom lip out of frustration, "it'll just take a second."

"It never takes just a second," she said dismissively, as her father suddenly walked into the room. "Plus, I'd really hate to miss anything that may happen." She quickly looked back at Ted. "Most importantly, though," her expression and her tone softened, "it's not my place to say anything."

"Say anything about what?" Bill asked.

"Nothing," she said, returning to her normal tone. "Ted knew what it meant."

At that very moment, Louis had jumped up to cheer something that had just happened in the match, but Ted couldn't be bothered to listen. He was too busy staring at Dominique with a blank, wide-eyed expression. It wasn't her place to say? If she knew anything it was her place to say! He was torturing himself over here wondering what the hell was going on and she didn't feel as if it was her place to say anything? She had to be kidding him!

"'As Victoire owled yet?" asked Fleur as she appeared at the entrance of the room.

Bill shook his head. "Should we owl her?"

"Whit lives out east somewhere," Louis said. "By the time any owl reached her, Vic would be home. I mean, we know she'll be back by seven tomorrow morning. That's when the Portkey leaves."

"Oh, she had better hope that she is back far before zat!" Fleur said as she turned on her heels and marched out of the room. "Otherwise, she will certainly not be going to France!"

"She's going to be in trouble…" Dominique mumbled under her breath.

Ted glanced out the window again. He was beginning to get annoyed. He was already annoyed with Dominique for being elusive and purposely unhelpful, and his annoyance with Victoire was only starting to build the longer she remained missing. Sure, if she walked in through that door right this moment and told him that she still meant everything she'd written, his annoyance with her would disappear in a flash. However, she wasn't doing that. She was purposely leaving him to sit here, wondering what the hell was happening. Worse yet, she had the power to make this uncertainty last upwards of a month. As much as he did fancy her, being forced to sit on this for the next month wasn't something that was going to ring in her favor.

As the night carried on, Ted continued to sit with Louis, Dominique, and Bill in their living room listening to Quidditch for the next hour and a half. Every twenty minutes or so, Fleur would walk in and ask if Victoire had owled. Upon finding out she hadn't, she would storm out of the room angrier than she had been when she walked in. As for the others, they kept attempting to engage Ted in various topics of conversation, but his mind just wasn't into it. He faked his way through as much as he could, but he couldn't keep his thoughts from drifting back to Victoire long enough to stay engaged. He also couldn't stop himself from checking out the window every three or four minutes in the hopes that he might catch a sight of her blonde head coming up the lawn towards the house. As it were-after two hours since everything had occurred, and once the Wimbourne Wasps beat the Tutshill Tornadoes 480-310-Victoire still hadn't returned. Ted was beginning to give up.

"It's almost eleven," Bill said as he stood and stretched. He looked a little perturbed due to Victoire's continued absence, but he was holding up better than Fleur currently was.

Ted stood. "I should go." He hadn't even realized the time, but it was getting late and he was beginning to overstay his welcome. Even if Victoire did come home right now, they'd barely have time to talk. Particularly given her mother's foul mood.

"It was nice of you to visit," Bill offered. "I know you were waiting for Vic to come home, but—"

Ted shrugged. "What can you do?" He glanced out the window one last time out of habit and also out of blind hope that maybe this time she'd actually be there. When she wasn't, he shook his head. "I'm just going to leave her a note." He pointed up the stairs to her room. Bill nodded as if giving him permission to do so.

Ted took to the stairs and made his way to Victoire's messy room, where his eyes immediately settled on the clear spot on the bed that he'd been sitting in earlier—the spot where he had read the letter. Staring at the spot made him reach into his pocket and pull out the crumbled sheet of parchment that was balled up in his fist. His annoyance suddenly grew. He couldn't believe she had run off.

He searched the room for a quill and something to write on. Upon finding an old Potions essay of hers mixed in with the mess, he tore off the blank bottom half of it. He put his quill to the edge of the paper and suddenly realized that he had no idea what to write. What was he supposed to say? If he wrote what he was thinking, it would have probably come off as angry. Thanks for letting me sit on this for a month. I waited for you to come back, but you didn't. I'll have loads of fun spending my time wondering what the hell is going on…But hey, have fun in France anyway. As annoyed as he was, he wasn't sure he wanted to come off like that.

He thought of how he could write that he felt the same way and that he wished she hadn't run off so quickly so that he could have told her that, though, that didn't seem right either. Especially considering the looming issue as to whether she still felt the same remained. He wanted to talk to her face to face, not through all these stupid letters.

It was getting to the point where he wondered why he should bother writing anything at all, but for whatever reason, he wanted to leave her with something. Something she could think about for the rest of the month. He stared at the parchment and wrote the words: Have fun in France before setting the quill down. That was it then. She had to make the next move.

He folded the paper up and looked around the room for a place to put it so that she'd actually find it among this mess. He finally settled on sticking it under her pillow, and as he turned to leave, he noticed Dominique standing in the doorway watching him.

"Are you still not talking?" he asked her.

"You know it's not my place to say anything."

"It's apparently not your sister's place, either."

She smirked a little. "If you read what I think you read, then I think she said plenty already."

He crossed his arms in front of him. "You know what it said, then?"

"I know the gist of what it said," she corrected. "I never actually read it. The one time I even accidentally came across it, Vic nearly had a panic attack. She apparently didn't want anyone to see it."

"Which brings us to where we are now," he said matter-of-factly.

She took a deep breath and started at him. "For the record, I know nothing more than what you read in that letter. You can stop giving me that look."

"What look?"

"The one you've been giving me all night, like you expect me to come out and tell you everything and anything Victoire may have told me." She shifted her weight on her feet. "Look, I know I like to talk, and I love to give Victoire a hard time, but I do have loyalties sometimes. Like everything else that's ever happened between you and Victoire, I don't really want to be dragged into the middle. This is for the two of you to sort out."

"Normally, I'd agree with you," he said, "but the little matter of her going to France, where I can't talk to her, is sort of daunting."

She smirked again. "You act like she's moving there."

He sighed heavily. This was entirely more frustrating than it should be.

"Ted," she said with a serious inflection in her voice. "I'm being honest when I say I don't know anything more than you do. Victoire and I don't really talk about this sort of stuff, and when we do, we don't talk a lot about it. All I know is that she wrote you that letter and that she never gave it to you." She laughed a little. "And she's an idiot because she kept it and thus, you found it."

"Do you at least know why she never gave it to me?"

"I can tell you why I think she never did," she offered. "She probably wanted to talk to you in person."

He stared at her. "So, what am I supposed to do?"

"You're asking me?"

He reached up and rubbed his eyes. "I just don't understand why she ran off. If she wanted to talk to me in person, then why—?"

"Are you serious?" she asked. "She's got all these feelings and she's probably run a thousand different situations in her head about how she can tell you and then this happens? I would have run away, too." She paused thoughtfully. "Well, I would have beaten the bloody pulp out of Louis first, but see, that's where she and I differ."

He couldn't stop himself from smiling a little, but it quickly turned back to a more pensive expression. "I just want to know if I should even worry about this. She wrote that letter a couple of months ago. For all I know, she's over me and doesn't mean a word of it anymore."

She made a clicking noise with her tongue. "I wouldn't worry about that."

His eyes shot to hers.

She shrugged. "But I'm already poking my nose into this way more than I said I would, so just"-she turned to leave-"worry about sorting out your own feelings." She stopped and turned back to him. "That is, unless you already have."

"Are you asking me how I feel?"

"Nope," she said quickly. "I can't be bothered getting caught up in Ted and Victoire drama." She smiled. "Though, if you want to tell me…"

He made an amused noise. "No, you're right. This really should be sorted out between me and her."

She nodded as though she agreed. "It's a shame Victoire makes that so difficult, huh?"


	25. Extended Confusion

What makes you think I—?" Ted began to ask Dominique, but just then, Louis and Bill appeared by his side.

"She left?" Louis asked in a surprised sounding tone. "She actually left?"

"She wouldn't have…" Bill said as he started walking towards the side of the house in search of her. "She would have said something."

"Is she okay?" Fleur called from the front door. "What is happening?"

"That's what I'd like to know," Dominique said as she crossed her arms and stared from Ted to Louis.

Ted scanned the yard as far as his eyes would let him. Victoire had actually run off. Just like that. She'd disappeared without a moment's notice. It was essentially the worst thing she could have done after he'd read that letter. He wanted to talk to her. He needed to talk to her.

"Where would she have gone?" he asked no one in particular.

Louis shrugged as Bill returned after having circled the house. "She's nowhere."

"What do you mean?" Fleur asked once she joined them on the lawn. "She is nowhere?"

"She must have Apparated away," Bill said with a stony expression.

"She, what!?" Fleur yelled, her eyes narrowing. "She knows better zan to Apparate away without telling us! Where would she have gone?"

"I'm guessing Whit's house," Dominique said before taking a step closer to the group. "I can't think of anywhere else she would have randomly run off to."

"Where does Whit live?" Ted asked quickly. All he needed was an address and he'd go track her down himself.

She shook her head and looked at Louis. "Do you know, Lou?"

"Why would I know?"

"I don't know. She's dating your best friend, so you might—"

He made a face. "It's never come up," he said sarcastically. "It's not as if I go on their dates with them, Nic."

She glared at him. "Don't be a prat. I said you might—"

"Stop," Fleur said, throwing a silencing look at both of her children. "I would like to know what happened."

Everyone looked at Ted as he stood there staring from face to face. What exactly was he supposed to tell them? Victoire had gotten upset because he had read a letter confessing her feelings for him? He didn't feel like he should have to tell anyone that. In fact, he didn't even care about telling them anything. All he wanted to do was find Victoire and talk to her.

"We were in her room talking," Louis began before all eyes shifted to him, "and I found some letter with Ted's name on it that Victoire had written him, so I gave it to him. He started reading it and Victoire went mental when she saw it. She was trying to snatch it away to the point where she was jumping on him and I had to pull her off him."

Bill and Fleur glanced at Ted, as if looking for conformation of this. He nodded his head slowly, even though he barely remembered any of what Louis had just described. The only thought he was even entertaining at the moment was what he had read in that letter.

"What was in this letter?" Bill asked. "What made her get so upset?"

"That I don't know," Louis said, looking at Ted. "Ted would know."

"It was nothing," Ted lied. He quickly looked away from Bill and settled his eyes on Dominique. She was staring at him curiously, as though she was studying his face. "It was just your run of the mill sort of letter. I don't know why she would have gotten upset."

"It had to say something," Fleur said obviously.

"Do you still have it?" Louis asked.

Ted stared at him blankly. "Have what?"

"The letter."

"Oh," he said as he glanced up at the house. He did in fact still have the letter. It was currently sitting in his pocket where he had shoved it on his way down the stairs after Victoire, but there was no way he was letting anyone else see it. That was private. It had already been made less private than Victoire had ever intended it to be by him reading it. He wasn't going to further things by sharing his and her business with her entire family. "No, I think I dropped it upstairs. It could be anywhere in all of that stuff."

"This is not like Victoire," Bill said before he turned towards the house. "Running off without so much as a word…"

"She had better owl us," Fleur said, turning and following him. "I do not know what has gotten into her lately. First, stunning people at school and now…" Her voice became fainter as she and Bill distanced themselves and disappeared back into the house. Ted turned and looked around the group. Dominique was still staring at him.

Louis shrugged. "Do you think she was mad because I held her back? I was afraid I might have hurt her, but she was doing it to herself what with all that struggling."

"What?" Ted asked in a dazed tone as he continued to think about what he'd read in that letter. He didn't even know what Louis was talking about.

"When I held her back because she was going mental on you," he added. "You know? When I pulled her off you?"

Ted shook his head. "I didn't even notice."

He laughed. "How did you not notice? She was practically on top of you!"

Ted took a few steps towards the house. "I was preoccupied," he mumbled. He needed to clear his head. If he couldn't figure out where she was, he had every intention of staying here and waiting for her to return. There was no way he was letting her run off to France for a month without sorting this out.

"So, let me get this straight," Dominique said, trailing several paces behind Ted. "You found this letter," she paused for effect, "and you gave it to Ted to read?"

"Yeah," Louis said. Ted realized she was talking to him.

"And he read it," she continued. "Then Victoire got upset because he was reading it?"

"I guess so."

"And when she tried to get the letter away from him, you held her back?"

"Right."

"What was she doing when you found this letter?"

"I don't know," Louis said. "She wasn't in the room…" He stopped. "No, wait. She was in her closet. Yeah. She was in there looking for something."

They reached the house and Ted turned to see Dominique quizzically starting at her brother. "So, you were going through her stuff when you shouldn't have been?"

Louis stared back at her from the entrance hall. "She knew I was. I mean, she saw me."

"But you had no right to read her stuff."

"I didn't read anything," he said defensively. "Ted did."

"He wouldn't have read it if you hadn't given it to him!"

"I didn't know he wasn't supposed to!"

"Even if he was supposed to," she said, her eyes flashing in a way that reminded Ted of Victoire's when she was mad, "that's not your call to make, Louis."

Louis stared at her as though she was insane. "Why do you even care? You're acting like something terrible happened when even Ted said it was nothing. Right, Ted?"

Ted didn't say anything. Between his mind swimming with thoughts of Victoire's feelings being the same as his, the fact that she ran off before he could tell her this, and these two arguing, he had nothing to add.

"If Victoire wanted him to read it," Dominique said in a harsh tone, "she would have given it to him herself. I mean, don't you think there's a reason it was in with all of her stuff instead of in his possession?"

"Stop acting like this is a big deal," Louis said dismissively before he turned and walked into the kitchen. "I swear, Nic, you're acting as mental as Victoire."

Ted's ear perked up at this. This actually was a big deal, and the fact that Dominique was acting as such was definitely curious. Did she have an idea about what had happened, or was she just feeling especially overprotective of Victoire? The latter seemed strange since she usually enjoyed seeing Victoire put into awkward situations. Dominique was usually the first person to claim that Victoire was overreacting to something stupid, yet here she was trying to justify her actions. It was as though she knew more than she was letting on.

"I am not acting mental," Dominique said to her brother. "I just think it's really rude for you to be so careless with someone else's stuff. Maybe she didn't want him seeing that letter, because...because," she stammered as if searching for a word, "because she has her reasons."

Ted cocked his eyebrow at her. She was definitely acting like she knew something.

"Nic," Louis said as he turned around and faced her. "Look at me. It. Is. Not. A. Big. Deal. This is just Victoire being over dramatic. You and I both know how she can get."

"She would never react like this unless it was a big deal!" she practically yelled. "That's what I'm trying to tell you! You're acting like you did nothing wrong and that it's all in her head!"

"Ted, would you tell her it's nothing!" Louis said as he went over to a nearby cupboard and practically threw it open.

Once again, he didn't say anything. He was still staring at Dominique curiously. He wanted to know what she knew, if anything. She wasn't siding with Louis about how Victoire was overreacting, which meant she at least comprehended why Victoire would have gotten this upset. What did she know? Whatever it was, it seemed like more than he did at the moment.

Dominique looked back at Ted for a brief second before she took a deep breath and rounded on her brother once more. In that instant, she started rambling off something in rapid French-something all three of the Weasleys did when they were trying to convey a message to the others without non-French speakers knowing what they were saying. Victoire and Dominique had frequently resulted in this as children when they were trying to keep something secret from Ted, knowing he didn't understand a word of it. He'd always hated it.

"Why are you yelling at me in French now?" Louis asked as he opened a box of crackers he retrieved from the cupboard.

She answered him in French. Her tone was sharp and her expression annoyed.

"This is ridiculous," Louis said, rolling his eyes. With his mouth full, he muttered something back to her in French. What it was, it made him laugh and, in turn, made her even more annoyed.

Ted watched as they went back and forth with this for over a minute. He wasn't sure what was being said, but Dominique must have said something because suddenly Louis said, "How am I supposed to know?"

"Tu es un idiot," she muttered hastily before turning and walking out of the kitchen. Ted glanced at Louis, who was watching her go.

"I hate when you guys do that," Ted said.

"You didn't miss anything," Louis said. He closed the box of crackers he was holding and tossed it back in the counter. "She was just yelling at me." He stretched. "So, are you going to hang out?"

"Uh, yeah, if I can," he said. "I kind of want to talk to Victoire and find out what's…" he hesitated, "wrong with her. You know, before you all head off for a month. Make sure she's not mad."

Louis nodded. "She'll probably be back soon. I can't see her running off for hours."

"I hope not," Ted mumbled, his thoughts returning to the real issue at hand. Victoire fancied him. She actually fancied him. With everything that had happened, he hadn't gotten the chance to properly digest this news, but the more he thought about it, the harder it was to hide his smile. Where the hell had that come from? He hadn't even had the slightest clue that she might feel the same way about him. If he had, he would have said something sooner.

Then again, why didn't she say something to him? She'd written him that letter over two months ago at his birthday, yet she hadn't sent it. She'd sent an entirely different letter. Was there a reason? Maybe she, too, was trying to convince herself that this wasn't something she wanted to pursue. Maybe the risks were just too great. Maybe she had meant it two months ago, but now she'd managed to get over it.

He frowned as he thought of this. Was that why she hadn't wanted him to read it and why she had stormed out so quickly afterwards? The idea of that being the case made his chest hurt. To know she had felt that way, but didn't anymore, was a definite kick to his ego.

"Hey, Ted," Louis yelled from somewhere nearby, which caused Ted to snap out of his thoughts. He hadn't even realized that Louis had left the kitchen. He followed his voice to the living room, where he and Dominique were sitting and seemingly getting along well enough again to listen to a Quidditch match on the Wizard Wireless. Louis looked up at him. "Your Wasps are on."

"Oh, yeah?" Ted asked, the faint image of Nate inviting him to the match earlier that day suddenly ringing in his memory. For some reason, that seemed like ages ago.

"Yeah, they're beating the Tornadoes 190-150 right now," Dominique said lazily as she lay down on the sofa, readying herself to listen. "Though, there's no sign of the Snitch yet."

Louis plopped down on the floor, just as Ted sat on the sofa across from Dominique. His mind was far too preoccupied to concentrate on Quidditch at the moment, but listening to the sound of the Quidditch announcer call the play-by-play action was a welcomed distraction. Still, he couldn't pull his thoughts away from whether or not that letter still meant what it had said. All he wanted was for Victoire to walk through that door right now so that he could ask her if—

"You're going to the World Cup, aren't you Ted?" Louis asked.

"Huh?"

"The World Cup," he repeated. "You're going, right?"

"Oh," he said, glancing out the window, "yeah."

"Are you camping with everybody?"

He turned around and looked at him. He'd heard the question, but it was almost as if he hadn't, as though he needed several extra seconds to process the information before he could answer. "I'm camping with Simon."

"Really?" asked Dominique, tilting her head in his direction.

"That's the plan right now," he said, thinking about Victoire once again. He supposed that if he could talk to her and if she did still feel the same way about him that he might change his plans around. If they worked things out, he'd go wherever she went. "But those plans might change," he added. "I might end up with you guys and everyone else. I'm not sure."

"You might?" Dominique asked with a curious grin.

He stared at her. She was acting entirely too suspicious to not know something. "Yeah, it depends."

She sat up. "What does it depend on?"

He pursed his lips. "A couple of things."

"Like?" she asked as she waved her hand around, gesturing for him to elaborate.

"Why are you asking?"

She shrugged before lying back down. "Just curious as to who"-she turned away from him and back towards the Wireless-"or rather, what, would make you change your mind."

His gaze grew instantly more intensified. He was positive that she knew exactly what this was all about now; he wanted to know what she knew. What had her sister mentioned to her? "Hey, Nicki, can I talk to you for a second?"

She looked back at him. "What's stopping you?"

He glanced at Louis. "In private."

She held his stare for a long moment before turning her head away. "In that case, no."

"No?"

She shook her head and gestured towards the Wireless. "It's a really exciting match. Aren't you a big Wasps fan?"

"I am, but," he bit his bottom lip out of frustration, "it'll just take a second."

"It never takes just a second," she said dismissively, as her father suddenly walked into the room. "Plus, I'd really hate to miss anything that may happen." She quickly looked back at Ted. "Most importantly, though," her expression and her tone softened, "it's not my place to say anything."

"Say anything about what?" Bill asked.

"Nothing," she said, returning to her normal tone. "Ted knew what it meant."

At that very moment, Louis had jumped up to cheer something that had just happened in the match, but Ted couldn't be bothered to listen. He was too busy staring at Dominique with a blank, wide-eyed expression. It wasn't her place to say? If she knew anything it was her place to say! He was torturing himself over here wondering what the hell was going on and she didn't feel as if it was her place to say anything? She had to be kidding him!

"'As Victoire owled yet?" asked Fleur as she appeared at the entrance of the room.

Bill shook his head. "Should we owl her?"

"Whit lives out east somewhere," Louis said. "By the time any owl reached her, Vic would be home. I mean, we know she'll be back by seven tomorrow morning. That's when the Portkey leaves."

"Oh, she had better hope that she is back far before zat!" Fleur said as she turned on her heels and marched out of the room. "Otherwise, she will certainly not be going to France!"

"She's going to be in trouble…" Dominique mumbled under her breath.

Ted glanced out the window again. He was beginning to get annoyed. He was already annoyed with Dominique for being elusive and purposely unhelpful, and his annoyance with Victoire was only starting to build the longer she remained missing. Sure, if she walked in through that door right this moment and told him that she still meant everything she'd written, his annoyance with her would disappear in a flash. However, she wasn't doing that. She was purposely leaving him to sit here, wondering what the hell was happening. Worse yet, she had the power to make this uncertainty last upwards of a month. As much as he did fancy her, being forced to sit on this for the next month wasn't something that was going to ring in her favor.

As the night carried on, Ted continued to sit with Louis, Dominique, and Bill in their living room listening to Quidditch for the next hour and a half. Every twenty minutes or so, Fleur would walk in and ask if Victoire had owled. Upon finding out she hadn't, she would storm out of the room angrier than she had been when she walked in. As for the others, they kept attempting to engage Ted in various topics of conversation, but his mind just wasn't into it. He faked his way through as much as he could, but he couldn't keep his thoughts from drifting back to Victoire long enough to stay engaged. He also couldn't stop himself from checking out the window every three or four minutes in the hopes that he might catch a sight of her blonde head coming up the lawn towards the house. As it were-after two hours since everything had occurred, and once the Wimbourne Wasps beat the Tutshill Tornadoes 480-310-Victoire still hadn't returned. Ted was beginning to give up.

"It's almost eleven," Bill said as he stood and stretched. He looked a little perturbed due to Victoire's continued absence, but he was holding up better than Fleur currently was.

Ted stood. "I should go." He hadn't even realized the time, but it was getting late and he was beginning to overstay his welcome. Even if Victoire did come home right now, they'd barely have time to talk. Particularly given her mother's foul mood.

"It was nice of you to visit," Bill offered. "I know you were waiting for Vic to come home, but—"

Ted shrugged. "What can you do?" He glanced out the window one last time out of habit and also out of blind hope that maybe this time she'd actually be there. When she wasn't, he shook his head. "I'm just going to leave her a note." He pointed up the stairs to her room. Bill nodded as if giving him permission to do so.

Ted took to the stairs and made his way to Victoire's messy room, where his eyes immediately settled on the clear spot on the bed that he'd been sitting in earlier—the spot where he had read the letter. Staring at the spot made him reach into his pocket and pull out the crumbled sheet of parchment that was balled up in his fist. His annoyance suddenly grew. He couldn't believe she had run off.

He searched the room for a quill and something to write on. Upon finding an old Potions essay of hers mixed in with the mess, he tore off the blank bottom half of it. He put his quill to the edge of the paper and suddenly realized that he had no idea what to write. What was he supposed to say? If he wrote what he was thinking, it would have probably come off as angry. Thanks for letting me sit on this for a month. I waited for you to come back, but you didn't. I'll have loads of fun spending my time wondering what the hell is going on…But hey, have fun in France anyway. As annoyed as he was, he wasn't sure he wanted to come off like that.

He thought of how he could write that he felt the same way and that he wished she hadn't run off so quickly so that he could have told her that, though, that didn't seem right either. Especially considering the looming issue as to whether she still felt the same remained. He wanted to talk to her face to face, not through all these stupid letters.

It was getting to the point where he wondered why he should bother writing anything at all, but for whatever reason, he wanted to leave her with something. Something she could think about for the rest of the month. He stared at the parchment and wrote the words: Have fun in France before setting the quill down. That was it then. She had to make the next move.

He folded the paper up and looked around the room for a place to put it so that she'd actually find it among this mess. He finally settled on sticking it under her pillow, and as he turned to leave, he noticed Dominique standing in the doorway watching him.

"Are you still not talking?" he asked her.

"You know it's not my place to say anything."

"It's apparently not your sister's place, either."

She smirked a little. "If you read what I think you read, then I think she said plenty already."

He crossed his arms in front of him. "You know what it said, then?"

"I know the gist of what it said," she corrected. "I never actually read it. The one time I even accidentally came across it, Vic nearly had a panic attack. She apparently didn't want anyone to see it."

"Which brings us to where we are now," he said matter-of-factly.

She took a deep breath and started at him. "For the record, I know nothing more than what you read in that letter. You can stop giving me that look."

"What look?"

"The one you've been giving me all night, like you expect me to come out and tell you everything and anything Victoire may have told me." She shifted her weight on her feet. "Look, I know I like to talk, and I love to give Victoire a hard time, but I do have loyalties sometimes. Like everything else that's ever happened between you and Victoire, I don't really want to be dragged into the middle. This is for the two of you to sort out."

"Normally, I'd agree with you," he said, "but the little matter of her going to France, where I can't talk to her, is sort of daunting."

She smirked again. "You act like she's moving there."

He sighed heavily. This was entirely more frustrating than it should be.

"Ted," she said with a serious inflection in her voice. "I'm being honest when I say I don't know anything more than you do. Victoire and I don't really talk about this sort of stuff, and when we do, we don't talk a lot about it. All I know is that she wrote you that letter and that she never gave it to you." She laughed a little. "And she's an idiot because she kept it and thus, you found it."

"Do you at least know why she never gave it to me?"

"I can tell you why I think she never did," she offered. "She probably wanted to talk to you in person."

He stared at her. "So, what am I supposed to do?"

"You're asking me?"

He reached up and rubbed his eyes. "I just don't understand why she ran off. If she wanted to talk to me in person, then why—?"

"Are you serious?" she asked. "She's got all these feelings and she's probably run a thousand different situations in her head about how she can tell you and then this happens? I would have run away, too." She paused thoughtfully. "Well, I would have beaten the bloody pulp out of Louis first, but see, that's where she and I differ."

He couldn't stop himself from smiling a little, but it quickly turned back to a more pensive expression. "I just want to know if I should even worry about this. She wrote that letter a couple of months ago. For all I know, she's over me and doesn't mean a word of it anymore."

She made a clicking noise with her tongue. "I wouldn't worry about that."

His eyes shot to hers.

She shrugged. "But I'm already poking my nose into this way more than I said I would, so just"-she turned to leave-"worry about sorting out your own feelings." She stopped and turned back to him. "That is, unless you already have."

"Are you asking me how I feel?"

"Nope," she said quickly. "I can't be bothered getting caught up in Ted and Victoire drama." She smiled. "Though, if you want to tell me…"

He made an amused noise. "No, you're right. This really should be sorted out between me and her."

She nodded as though she agreed. "It's a shame Victoire makes that so difficult, huh?"


	26. Campfire Conversations

Ted was jolted awake in the middle of the afternoon. After a two hour nap, a ray of sunshine was just barely breaking through the curtains of his window and landing directly on his face. Out of an entire room of places for the sun ray to land, it seemed to find the spot right across his eyes to be the best place. He blinked several times before rolling over onto his side to avoid any further exposure.

He had to get up. It was after four o'clock in the afternoon and he'd told Simon that he would be at their campsite three hours ago. He hadn't counted on having an exhausting shift at work though, after which he'd only managed a couple hours of crummy sleep. He knew he should probably attempt to get as much sleep as he could here in his bed while he still had the chance, especially since sleeping in a tent surrounded by masses of wizards wasn't going to prove to be any better. Now that he was up though, he might as well get up.

His body didn't seem to want to agree with this logic. He yawned widely and flipped back over onto his back where the sun ray caught his eyes again and made him squint. He pulled his blankets up over his head so that it no longer bothered him, and there he lay trying to tell himself to get up out of bed. The faster he got up, the sooner he'd be ready, and the sooner he'd be at the Quidditch World Cup-the event he'd been waiting most of the year to see. He get to have fun with his friends, he'd get all of two days off from work, he'd get to see some world class Quidditch, and, hopefully, he got a chance to finally talk to Victoire, though he wasn't even sure about that.

It'd been over a month since Victoire had left for France and Ted hadn't heard a word from her. Not one. He didn't know if he should be expecting one or not, but he felt like he should. Even if it was just a simple letter telling him that they'd talk when she got home. Anything was better than nothing. He didn't even know when she was getting back. For all he knew, she already was. All anyone had told him was that they were spending a month in France and that they'd be back by the Quidditch World Cup. Did that mean today? Tomorrow? Last week?

He pulled the blankets off of his head and forced himself to sit up. He had thought about writing Victoire, but his stubbornness on the matter wouldn't allow him to actually go through with it. He was genuinely aggravated that she'd run off on him and, plus, he was sick and tired of the correspondences and the letters. He wanted to talk to her face to face and hash things out in person. The promise he made to himself to sort things out with her one on one was the only thing stopping him from picking up a quill and writing to her. Though, at times, he felt compelled otherwise.

Over the last month, he had spent entirely too much time thinking about how things would be when they did see each other. Well, that actually wasn't true…He'd actually spent entirely too much time thinking about her in general. The thoughts of how things would be when they did finally see each other were just muddled in with all of the other ones he was constantly having about her.

Whenever he wasn't preoccupied with work—and even when he was—she was on his mind. The dreams he had that involved her had gotten better than ever and had even begun creeping into his thoughts when he was wide awake. Even with all his growing frustrations, he still couldn't help the anticipatory excitement that gathered up inside of him whenever she crept into his mind. It was the sort of excitement that made him want to tell someone about it, but with all the people he trusted to talk about this sort of thing with being too close to Victoire, he was left keeping it all pent up inside of him. It definitely made dealing with things that much more difficult.

Upon finally making the decision to get himself out of bed, he stood, dressed, and prepared himself to leave. He packed a small duffle bag and searched his flat once over in an attempt to make sure he had everything he needed. He hadn't packed much, seeing as he'd only been away for two days, but he still would rather not have to pop back home in case he forgot something. Feeling confident that he had everything, he took one last quick sweep of the room before flinging his duffle bag over his shoulder. With that, he disappeared with a quick pop.

Seconds later, he reappeared hundreds of miles away and smack dab in the middle of not only a forest, but also in the midst of a raucous crowd. People were yelling, laughing, screaming, and fighting—all seemingly on their way from one point to another. He'd never seen anything like it, and he'd spent his life growing up around Quidditch. This was a madhouse. He dodged a group of Italian looking wizards who were running through the crowd, loudly chanting, before glancing around to get his bearings. The campsite he was looking for should be right here. Unless Simon had somehow screwed up the directions.

Taking a few steps forward, he began inspecting the various sites around him. With both Italy and Argentina having made it to the Quidditch World Cup, the loudest and most spirited crowds looked to belong to the Italian and Argentinian camps that were sprinkled throughout the site. Still, a large amount of neither group were present and happily jumping on whichever bandwagon they felt had the best chance of winning on Saturday. He, himself, had jumped on the Argentinean bandwagon due to the fact that they currently had the best chasers in the world. Though, as he witnessed a fist fight break out between two very large wizards wearing opposite team colors, he wasn't about to run around proclaiming that too loudly.

After a ten minute search, it only took him a few sites to finally spot Simon walking around the outside of a rather large looking tent, his eyes set on watching someone else attempt to light a campfire. Ted approached him from behind and tapped him on the shoulder. He jumped with a start.

"Shit, you scared me," Simon said as he rounded on Ted. "Do you see the amount of nutters running around here?"

Ted grinned. "It's insane."

"Madness," Simon said as he took a deep breath and smiled cheerfully. "Where have you been? I thought you were turning up hours ago?"

"Long day at work," he said just as Simon gestured for him to follow towards the tent. "I feel asleep."

"Yeah, well, you better wake up now, because the fun's just starting." Simon grabbed the entrance to the end. "Follow me and I'll show you your room." He pulled back the entrance to reveal a much larger, much nicer, living area on the inside. As Ted looked around, he had to admit that this was the nicest tent he'd ever seen. Even nicer than Harry's—and Harry had a nice tent. It had several bedrooms, all visible from the entrance, and an entire sitting room that was furnished with items that were nicer than anything Ted owned in his flat.

He stopped in the middle of the room and gazed around. "Whose tent is this, then?"

"Not mine," Simon said obviously. "It's this bloke in my office. You'll meet him, his name is Phil. He's the one who got us all the tickets. His dad is somebody important and wealthy in that ostentatious way where they spend all on their money on lavish things, you know? Anyway, it belongs to him. It's a lot nicer than that piece of shit I would have brought."

"You mean the one we used to use in your yard when we were twelve?" Ted asked. He had a distant memory of camping in Simon's back yard one night in a smelly old tent that had apparently been passed down from generation to generation through the Reed family.

"The very same," Simon said with a nostalgic sort of smile. "Smells like old feet, but we had some fun."

"But let's not discount the fact that it smelled like old feet."

Simon laughed and walked over to one of the nearest flaps that separated the bedrooms from the living area. He pulled it back. "This is yours."

Ted followed him over and peeked inside. It wasn't large or decorated, having only small bed resting in the corner by a small side table, but it was cozy enough. It looked as though it was just bigger than a decent sized closet.

"Sorry, it's small," Simon said as if he was reading Ted's thoughts. "All the other rooms were claimed by the time you decided to come."

He shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal. "I'm only going to use it to sleep."

"Sue and I are just across the living room," Simon said as he pointed towards the flap. "Then Phil's got the big room by the kitchen, obviously, and a few more people from work are scattered around. Rachael's in the room next door, though." He threw Ted a knowing smile.

Ted sighed and pretended to be studying his surroundings. Rachael was Susan's best friend from back home in America-a very nice, very pretty girl, who he had met a week earlier upon her arrival in England. While it hadn't struck Simon at the time of their first meeting to do anything about it, it had suddenly dawned on him—after having all but given up trying to set Ted up after the first few failed attempts—that he could set him up with Rachael. He seemed to think it was a brilliant stroke of genius.

Nevermind the fact that she lived in an entirely different country, and that she and Ted hadn't had a conversation consisting of anything more than typical pleasantries, Simon seemed to think they would be perfect. Even worse, Simon had shared his idea with Susan and she, too, had decided to join in on the attempts. Together, the two of them had been pestering Ted—and he could only assume Rachael, too—on the matter for the last few days.

Needless to say, given the circumstances in his life concerning Victoire, he wasn't at all interested. But, due to the fact that he couldn't tell Simon about Victoire yet, he was forced to begrudgingly deal with all of his matchmaking efforts. No matter how blatant and ridiculous they were becoming…

"It was this blue shirt," Rachael had told the group of Susan, Simon, and Ted several days earlier. She had been describing something she had bought at a shop while exploring the sites of London. "I have so many blue shirts since it's my favorite color, but I just couldn't help myself."

"Red's my favorite color," Simon said casually as he glanced at Ted. "But hey, Ted, you like blue a lot, don't you? I mean, your hair and all, you've always preferred blue."

Ted stared at Simon blankly. He couldn't be serious. He was really going to sit there with a straight face and comment on how they had the same favorite color as though that made them a perfect match? Honestly?

"Yeah," Ted mumbled. "It is."

Susan smiled as she glanced between the pair of them expectantly. "What a coincidence."

Rachael looked a little confused, but shrugged. "Not really. I'm sure lots of people like the color blue."

"Loads of people," Ted quickly added, giving Simon a pointed look as he did. "Probably millions of people."

"In fact," Rachael continued, "Sue, it's your favorite color, too…"

"Rach, can I talk to you for a second," Susan said hastily, "in the other room?" She stood and made a jarring head gesture towards the nearest room, as if to indicate the need to talk was somewhat urgent. Rachael visibly sighed, but said nothing as she stood and followed her.

Simon waited for them both to disappear. "So," he asked, "what do you think?"

"Of?" Ted asked, pretending to play dumb.

"You know damn well what of," he said as he gestured in the direction of where the girls had gone. "Of Rachael."

"She's nice," he said with a shrug.

"She's pretty."

"Yes, she is."

Simon rolled his eyes. "But? What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing," he said with little enthusiasm. "She seems perfectly nice."

"But…?"

Ted sighed. "Simon, I don't know, I'm just…" He searched his brain for an excuse. This would be worlds easier if he just told Simon about everything concerning Victoire. "I'm just way too busy at work for girls."

Simon rolled his eyes, but Ted knew it would shut him up for a little bit. Work was always the best excuse. When in doubt, all he had to do was claim that he was swamped at the hospital and no one could say otherwise. He could continue to tell Simon and Susan, "Oh, she's very nice, but I just don't have the time…" and they would have to believe it. They may protest, but it didn't change the fact that he had no control of his "busy schedule." Even though, in all reality, things were as normal as ever down at the lab…

Back in the tent, Ted walked over to the camp bed and sat down. He bounced a little on the mattress to test its firmness. It was by no means the most comfortable bed he'd ever slept on, but it wasn't terrible either. "Bed's not bad," he said to Simon.

"I'd bet it's better than my bed at home," Simon said as he turned and pulled on the entrance flap to leave. "So, wait, when do you have to be back at work? You only got the two days off?"

"I've got tonight off, all day tomorrow off, and then the day of the match off," Ted said once he followed him. "I have to be at work at six o'clock in the morning on the day after the match, though."

Simon made a face. "That's crap. You're not even going to get any sleep once everyone starts celebrating. That'll go all night."

"I've worked on less sleep before," Ted muttered as he walked back out into the open air and observed more and more people arriving all around him. Simon pulled up two lawn chairs and handed one to Ted. The two both plopped down and began to absently people watch.

"Where's Harry camping?" Simon asked.

"Not far from here, I think," Ted said as he looked to his left and began aimlessly scanning the crowd. "Somewhere in that direction." He pointed left. "I might try and go find them later."

"Are they here already?"

"Yeah, Ginny's got all sorts of pre-match coverage she has to do for the Prophet, and Harry's helping with security. They have probably been here since this morning."

Simon nodded thoughtfully. "Oh, hey, I've been meaning to ask you. Is Victoire coming?"

Ted blinked upon hearing her name. "Huh?"

"Is Victoire coming," Simon repeated as a group of children waving the Italian flag came romping through their campsite before quickly vanishing into the next. "You know, here?"

"Here?" Ted asked as he pointed to the ground beneath his feet. "Why would she randomly turn up here? Did you tell her where we were camping?"

Simon cocked his eyebrow curiously. "No. I meant here, as in the World Cup." He waved his hand around in a general motion. "Anywhere here. Not, literally," he pointed at their campsite," here."

"Oh," he said, realizing what Simon had obviously meant. "Um, yeah, I think so." He turned away and focused on a group of Argentinean wizards at the next camp who were throwing around a Quaffle. "She said she was."

"Is she camping with Harry and that lot?"

Ted shrugged. "I'd assume so."

"You haven't talked to her lately?"

He stifled a small chuckle. "I definitely have not." He leaned back in his chair before adding, "She's been in France."

"When does she get back?"

"I don't know."

"You two didn't make plans to hang out?"

"Not really, no."

Simon made a noncommittal noise, but said nothing else. A calming silence fell over the pair as they both began watching characters from all walks of life pass by their campsite. Mad looking nutters who you wouldn't want to cross, families with small children, families with large children, rich looking people, poor looking people, drunk looking people, people who couldn't pass as Muggles to save their lives, and people who looked so much like Muggles that one would almost be afraid to pull their wand out around them for fear of being outed. If they existed, they were probably here. Well, maybe not everyone…

Ted cast a glance back in the direction of where he assumed Harry was camping. He wondered when Victoire was planning on showing up or whether or not she was still even coming. He didn't think she'd altogether not come, but he couldn't be sure. He knew that by Saturday she would definitely be back, and that was all that really mattered. If he didn't actually run into her here, he knew he'd at least be able to shortly after.

After an hour or so of milling around the campsite and being introduced through Simon to the various other people they were sharing the tent with, Ted had decided to make the trek down to where he assumed he would find Harry and Ginny. He didn't know who else he'd find there, but he remained slightly optimistic that maybe, just maybe, Victoire had come early. Though, upon actually finding their site, he realized this wasn't the case. He only found Ginny standing outside of their tent and preparing for dinner. Apparently, Harry had taken the kids for a walk.

"Everyone else gets here tomorrow," Ginny told Ted after he'd asked where everyone else was. "Charlie, Ron, Hermione, and the kids get here in the morning. Then I think George and his family are coming in the afternoon some time." She walked over to a nearby cauldron that was boiling over the campfire. "And Bill's kids get back from France tonight, so I'm sure they'll probably be here first thing tomorrow."

Ted nodded as he took it all in. That was that, then. He had the entirety of the evening to know that he wasn't running into Victoire. It was a disappointing feeling, but a relieving one as well. He took a seat in a nearby chair, just as all three of Harry's kids came sprinting onto the scene; each one out of breath and panting.

"I won!" James said between breaths and glancing back at his siblings.

"At least I kept up," Lily said as she plopped onto the ground.

"You just barely won," Albus mumbled as he suddenly noticed Ted. "Hi Teddy. When did you get here?"

"Just a few minutes ago," he said. "I came for dinner."

"Where's your dad?" Ginny asked as she looked into the direction the kids had just come from.

"Back there somewhere," James said as he looked into the cauldron to see what was cooking. "We started racing, so I didn't see where he went."

"Oh, wonderful," Ginny said wearily. "You're supposed to stay with him. There are far too many people around here. You could get lost."

James turned away so his mother couldn't see him roll his eyes. He noticed that Ted caught him doing it, but simply smiled as if he didn't care. Ted couldn't help but notice that the more time he spent away from James, the older he seemed to be getting when he did happen to see him. Granted he was still only twelve, but the mannerisms, the growing attitude, and just the gradual change in his physical appearance were slowly starting to whittle away at whatever semblance was left of him being a little kid. It was just a matter of time before they'd have a full blown teenager on their hands.

"Teddy," said Albus as he came and sat down in front of him. "Who do you think is going to win on Saturday?"

"Argentina."

Albus frowned. "Why is everyone saying them?"

"Because they're going to win," James said obviously. "When you picked Italy, you picked the wrong team, Al. You should switch while you can."

"But Sabatino is the best Seeker I've ever seen," said Albus adamantly. "Argentina's Chasers are good, but the rest of their team is shit—"

"Albus…!" said Ginny. She had stopped stirring the cauldron and was staring at him with her mouth slightly agape. James started laughing.

"Ooooohh…" Lily mumbled. "You said a foul word."

"Oops," Albus said as his cheeks went slightly pink. "It just came out."

"What just came out?" Harry asked, having just appeared with a several canteens in his hand. He threw Ted a friendly smile before glancing from Albus to Ginny.

"Your son," Ginny said with the slightest trace of a smile, though she wasn't letting the children see that, "just said the word shit."

Harry sighed. "James…"

James's jaw dropped, which made Lily and Albus laugh. "It wasn't me! Al said it!"

"James has said it before!" Albus quickly countered, as though the fact somehow mattered.

"I've never been stupid enough to say it in front of Mum and Dad," James said matter-of-factly.

"Both of you shouldn't be saying it at all," Ginny said as she went back to stirring the cauldron.

Albus made a face before mumbling, "Teddy says it."

Ted blinked and threw Albus a look that begged to ask what he had done to him to be brought into the middle of this.

"Ted's an adult," Harry said. "He can say what he likes." He turned to face Ted and smiled a little. "Though, I would appreciate it if he minded what he said around you three."

"One time…" Ted said as he shook his head at Albus. "I swear in front of you one time and you sell me out."

Albus shrugged innocently.

After a hearty dinner, and some more rousing Quidditch chat in which Albus tried to convince the group of them why Italy was a more superior team than Argentina, Ted bid them all goodnight and made his way back down to his own campsite. As he came within site of it, he noticed there were several more people milling around than when he'd left; half of whom he'd never seen a day in his life. He noticed Simon in the center of things, chatting with Susan and Rachael. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves.

"There you are," Susan said as Ted approached. "Simon said you'd arrived, but we were starting not to believe him."

Ted grinned and took a seat on an empty lawn chair. "Where'd all these people come from?"

"Friends of friends of friends," Simon said as he looked around. "Just stopped by to say hello and have a good time. Caleb—school Caleb that is—he was here earlier. Said to say hello to you."

"Oh," Ted said. "I haven't seen him since your birthday." He smirked. "In fact, the last time I saw him, he was snoring awkwardly on the floor of your flat."

"Sounds like Caleb," Simon said. "Do you remember how loud he used to snore?" He turned towards Susan and Rachael. "Ted and I spent the better part of five years throwing things at this kid in his sleep just to get him to stop snoring."

"Nothing ever worked," Ted said with a small smile. "Until sixth year where we worked out this charm that we made him cast before he went to bed every night. It muffled all the noise around him so that no one else could hear it."

"Then, go figure," Simon added, "most of sixth year, I could barely sleep because it got too quiet in there."

Susan and Rachael both smiled before Rachael proceeded to tell a story about how growing up, her brother snored so loudly that she could hear it through her bedroom walls. This inspired Simon to tell everyone how Susan snored, which she didn't take too kindly to and denied vehemently. When Rachael agreed with Simon-though she said it wasn't that bad-Susan seemed to grow more and more self-conscious.

"I don't, though," she said testily. Her tone had made Ted stop laughing, so as to not make her more upset. Rachael had all but stopped addressing the matter and began trying to change the subject, but Simon didn't seem to know to quit while he was ahead.

"You do," he said with a laugh. "Trust me. You snore. Loudly."

Susan quickly stood and walked away without another word. Ted glanced at Simon and saw that he was watching her leave with a curious expression. He didn't seem to pick up on the fact that she was upset.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asked.

"You know, she can be sensitive about these sorts of things," Rachael said as she made to stand up. "I can go talk to her."

Simon sighed and waved for her to sit. "No, wait, I'll go. I didn't know…" He shook his head before falling off into the direction Susan had just disappeared into.

Rachael glanced at Ted and smiled awkwardly. "I hope that works itself out."

"Yeah," he said with a slow nod. "Simon can be a bit much sometimes."

"And Susan can be a little too sensitive at times," she said.

"But somehow they manage to work," Ted offered.

She nodded. "Well, from what I've seen, they do have a lot in common." She laughed a little. "Like, once they have their minds set on something, there's no stopping either of them."

Ted thought of Simon's constant efforts at setting him up and couldn't help but agree. "That's for sure."

"Like," she sat up straighter and stared at him, "are they constantly giving you the impression that they're trying to," she gestured between them, "fix us up? I mean, I don't even know where it came from, but—"

"They won't shut up about it," Ted said quickly. "Yeah, I don't get it, either."

She laughed. "I didn't know if it was just Susan or whether—"

"Nope," he said, "Simon too."

"They're shameless," she said as she shook her head. "I don't know about Simon, but Susan's never been subtle about these sorts of things."

"Simon doesn't know what the word subtle means."

She laughed again. "See, this is why they work together. They can go around being blatantly obvious for everyone to see."

He smiled.

"I just don't see why they would just assume…" she began. "I mean, don't get me wrong, you seem like a very nice guy, but," she shook her head, "considering that I live in another country and have no plans to move…"

Ted took a huge sigh of relief. "No, I completely understand. I really don't even know where they were going with this."

"Sue probably wanted me to fall in love and come running over to England so that she would have a little bit of home here with her. She's always been an eternal optimist in that sense."

"I don't even know what Simon's prerogative is," he said. "He thinks I'm in a slump or something, which I mean, maybe I am a little. Either way, he's been on this kick to set me up for weeks now."

"He probably just wants you to be in a couple," she said in a joking tone, "so that your couple and his couple can go out and do all sorts of fun couple activities together. It's very domesticated for him."

He grinned and suddenly thought of Victoire. "Yeah, well, he's been looking in all the wrong places."

"I could say the same thing about Sue," she said. "Not that I can blame her really since she doesn't exactly know, but…" She trailed off and laughed a little. "Let's just say that when she tries to hook me up with guys, she's completely misguided."

"Yeah, it's the same with Simon."

She grinned lazily. "I'd bet Simon's a little more on target than Susan is."

"I don't know about that."

"Oh, I promise you he is," she said with a strange sort of emphasis.

He grinned a little. "What makes you think that?"

She lowered her voice to a whisper. "I haven't exactly told Sue this yet, but I'm planning on it. So, it would be cool if you didn't mention this to her before I get the chance to."

He stared at her curiously. "Sorry?"

"I don't date guys," she said. "Susan always tries to set me up with guys, when in reality, I prefer to date..." She trailed off and gave Ted an obvious look, as if he should already know where she was going with this.

It took him a moment to decipher exactly what she meant, but when it hit him, his eyes suddenly lit up. "Oh…You don't like guys, because you like—"

"Girls," she said with a nod. "Right. That would be why. So, like I said, unless Simon is trying to set you up with the entirely wrong sex, I bet he's a little more on target than Sue is."

He let out a surprised laugh before lowering his own voice. "Wow. Yeah, she is completely off the mark."

She nodded.

"She doesn't know?"

She shook her head. "I mean, she may suspect something, but I don't think she'd believe it unless she heard me tell her. It's only something I've recently come to terms with, so…" She grew quiet for a long moment before she laughed awkwardly. "Annnnd, I don't know why I just told you all of this since I barely even know you. For all I know, you'll just run off to tell her."

"Oh, I won't," he said honestly. "It's none of my business."

She screwed up her face as though she was trying to read him. "See, that's what they say, and while you have a trustworthy vibe about you, you can never tell people these days." She sighed and stretched her arms out in front of her. "I should make you tell me some deep, dark secret so that I can use it as leverage against you if you do."

He smiled a little. At the mere mention of the word secret, he immediately thought of the biggest secret he had right now. He knew that keeping his feelings for Victoire pent up the way he was doing was the sole reason things were so crazy for him. He was so tired of keeping secrets, especially this one. As it was, he didn't know if he could trust Rachael at all, but the opportunity to say something—something to someone who was completely unbiased and held no opinions one way or another—was staring him in the face. Even though telling her could potentially bite him in arse if she happened to tell Simon, at the moment he didn't care. He just wanted to tell someone.

"All right," he said as he sat forward and cracked his knuckles. "I'll match you here, but you can't tell anyone this."

"I was only kidding about the secret thing," she said.

"Yeah, well, I got to tell somebody this," he said. "And everyone I know can't know for one reason or another, so-"

"I'll have to do?" she asked with an amused smile.

He grinned. "Here's the thing." He took a deep breath. "I'm pretty convinced I'm in love with my best friend."

"We're not talking about Simon are we?" she asked. "Because otherwise, our secrets are on a fairly similar path here"

"No," he laughed, "not Simon. I have another friend, her name's Victoire, who I've known since we were little, little kids. Recently though, things have happened, I've changed, she's changed, I don't even know what it is, but there are feelings now. I can't stop thinking about her and I haven't been able to tell anyone about this because everyone I know, from my family to my friends, all know us as just friends. They would probably be shocked l if they knew how I felt."

"Wow," she said.

"Simon especially, since he sort of had a thing for her way back in the day. He and I used to sit there going back in forth about how he thought she was amazing and I thought he was mental—"

"Ahh…" she said as if she understood. "And let me guess, he would never let you live this down now that you're into her?"

"Exactly," he said as he grew more and more animated the longer he talked. It felt good to finally get this all out. It felt amazing to actually admit to someone how he felt. It was as though he was releasing weeks' worth of pent up aggression. "That's exactly it, he would never let me hear the end of it. But, here's the thing, if she and I end up together, I could give a shit if he wants to make fun of me or claim he was right all along. It wouldn't matter—"

"Because you'd have the girl."

He nodded. "It's just, if it doesn't work out…" he started to calm as his voice trailed off, "then I'd still never hear the end of it."

"And on top of that, you wouldn't have the girl."

"Right."

"Wow," she repeated. "That's pretty heavy."

"Yeah," he mumbled. "And that's not even the end of it."

"There's more?"

"See, she apparently feels the same way about me," he said as he looked at the ground. "Or she did, I don't know. I haven't been able to talk to her about it because when I found out about how she felt, she literally ran off without talking to me."

"So, she ran off. Why didn't you go after her?"

"She ran off to France."

"Oh." She made a face. "Oh…"

"Yeah…"

"Is she coming back?"

He nodded. "She should be coming here to the World Cup," he said, "which, I mean, I almost don't even know what to do when I see her. I'm still annoyed with her for having left, but I'm excited about seeing her, and I'm just confused about everything else. I've spent the last month being able to think of little else but her, and I've been trying to plan this moment out for weeks, but every time I try, I just end up more confused as to what I should do."

She smiled at him. "And you think you're in love?"

He furrowed his brow. "Huh?"

"What you said earlier," she said, adjusting herself in her seat. "You said, 'I think I'm in love with my best friend.' I'm no expert, but, I'd say that all that you'd just described is pretty indicative of how you feel, not just what you think."

He looked away from her and towards the campfire that several people were currently trying to strengthen by adding moss and branches. He smiled a little as he digested what she said. He couldn't help but tell himself-even though all evidence pointed to the contrary-that it was still easier to believe that he hadn't completely fallen in love with her yet. If he kept thinking that he only might be, then it would be much easier to pick up the pieces if, and possibly when, things didn't end up working out.


	27. PreMatch Nerves

"Where are our seats?" Simon asked as he examined the ticket in his hand.

Ted took the ticket he'd been handed and began examining it himself. "I'm sure once we get up there, we'll be able to figure things out."

"I hope they're decent seats," Simon mumbled as he and Ted followed the rest of their group, along with the rest of other general attendees, through the woods and up the snaking path that lead towards the monstrous Quidditch arena. After months and months of waiting—and after several dozen matches and preliminaries—the day of the final Quiddich match was here. The electricity in the air was invigorating, and the site of thousands of people all excitedly joined for one common goal created such a fierce energy that one couldn't help but be excited. Ted had even changed his hair so that it was white and blue today, the team colors of Argentina.

The entire experience had been a fun and relaxing one thus far. Ted had spent most of the day before wandering around every corner of the campgrounds and running into old and new acquaintances alike. He'd spent the previous evening drinking with his old friends and attempting to make new ones with their various neighbors, though many didn't speak much English. He'd had a lot of laughs, played a few games, and really, didn't let anything get to him. He rarely got this much time off of work; he was going to enjoy it.

The only things he didn't do on the day before the final match was stop by Harry's tent again. He'd contemplated it, but decided against it for the time being. He wanted to have fun and he wanted to stop worrying about his personal problems for a few hours. He wanted to put the seemingly unending, up and down, struggle he was having over his feelings for Victoire out of his head for a bit and just enjoy things as though he didn't have a care in the world. And that's exactly what he did.

"I'm told they're excellent seats," said Phil, Simon's slightly older co-worker and bearer of the tickets. "They're up high. Don't worry about it."

"It's not that I don't think they're good," Simon said as he avoided a group of younger teenagers who were chanting loudly in Spanish. "I just like to know these things."

"As long as I can see the action," said Rachael, who along with Susan, was walking just behind the group of them. "I'm happy."

"Yeah, but what happens if you end up with a pole in front of your face?" Ted asked as he turned around and glanced at her.

She shrugged and grinned. "I'll switch seats with you."

Ted made a face and let out a doubtful laugh. "Over my dead body."

"If that's what it takes," Susan joked, "don't think she won't kill you."

He laughed again before facing forward to watch where he was going. He could feel Simon starting at him from beside him, and chanced a glance at him. He was grinning and making the slightest head gesture towards Rachael, as if asking what that was all about. This was something he'd been doing this for the last day and a half, or rather, ever since he's noticed that Ted and Rachael were getting along and talking more than they had been previously.

Ted shrugged, but looked away. It was much easier to humor him this way. If Simon thought that he and Rachael were hitting it off, it shut him up on the matter. If that was all it took, he was more than willing to play along for the time being.

"It's massive," Susan said once they were all just outside the arena. She was looking up the length of the giant structure. "Like, a hundred times bigger than the one at Salem."

"I wouldn't say a hundred," Rachael said, "but it's the biggest one I've ever seen."

"We're straight up! Lots of stairs to climb," Phil said as he pulled a red, green, and white Italy cap onto his head. The cap suddenly began to bellow, "ITALY! ITALY!"

Ted grimaced. It was one of those obnoxious hats that screamed your team's name. He'd passed hundreds of people wearing them on the way over from the tent and had wanted to burn each one of them equally.

"You actually bought one of those stupid hats?" Simon asked.

"I think they're funny," Phil said with a shrug.

"We should probably go inside," Susan suggested. "We have to climb a lot of stairs."

"Stupid stairs," Simon muttered as the entire group of them queued up in the line leading to the nearest stairwell. It was a slow moving process, what with a thousand other people all making their way up at the exact same time. It took them the better part of twenty minutes to make it to one of the upper landings, but soon enough, Phil finally claimed that their seats were on this level.

"I'm out of shape," Susan mumbled once they stopped to catch their breaths.

"Me too," Rachael said through a pant.

Simon leaned up against the concrete wall. "Me three."

"Our seats are on the other side," Phil said as he checked the ticket. "We just need to walk."

Simon groaned.

"Oh, look at all the stuff they're selling?" Susan said. She was pointing around to everything as they proceeded to walk with the rest of the crowd through the corridor. Ted took everything in as he went. In every direction, vendors were selling programs and pennants, food and other souvenirs. The colors of Italy and Argentina were thrown on to any old items, from caps, to t-shirts, to robes, to souvenir Quaffles; people were buying them in droves.

"I think I'm going to get a pair of omnioculars," said Rachael once they came upon a stand where they were being sold.

"Oh, come on," Simon said as he pointed to the stand in question. "The line's too long. The match starts in fifteen minutes."

Ted pointed. "No, see, that's the line for the food. The omniocular guy doesn't have a line."

"It'll take me one second," Rachael said with a quick smile before she turned to hurry off. "Just wait right here. I'll be right back."

"I need to find a bathroom before we sit," Susan said as she looked around. "Though, given the sheer amount of people, I don't know if that's such a good idea right now."

"If you have to use the loo," Phil said as he checked his watch. "Go now while we still have time."

"Shut up, she's got plenty of time," Simon said as he gave Susan a quick smile. Ever since their argument the other night, Ted had noticed Simon had been nothing short of gentlemanly ever since.

"There," said Rachael upon returning and holding up her brand new omnioculars. "That didn't take long at all."

"I wonder if I should get a new pair," Simon said as he pulled out an old pair from his pocket. "I've had these for years now, so the rewind function is getting a little wonky–"

"Simon!" called someone.

"Did I just hear my name?" Simon asked, looking around. At that very same moment, Ted was suddenly punched in the shoulder. He turned to stare down whoever may have done it, but instead came face to face with someone he hadn't expected to see. Dominique Weasley stood there looking almost unrecognizable. She had blue and white paint on her face, but underneath she looked especially tan and healthy. What was most dramatically different about her though, was that she had cut almost all of her hair off. Her white blonde hair was now even shorter than Ted's own.

Ted's jaw dropped. "You chopped all your hair off…"

She smiled. "Nothing gets past you, Teddy."

"Dominique?" Simon asked. He seemed to just be realizing who it was. "You look fantastic!"

Ted reached up and playfully tousled her hair, partly because he wanted to check and see if it was really missing. She swatted his arm away. "Stop it, you weirdo."

He laughed. "I'm just shocked. You look completely different." He shook his head, before adding, "Good, but different."

"People are getting a real kick out of it," she said with a smile before she glanced around at everyone else standing there. "Everyone's got a comment."

"Oh," Simon said, pointing around to the group and making introductions. "Dominique, this is Phil, Rachael, and my girlfriend, Susan." He turned to everyone else. "This is Dominique."

Ted laughed. "Well, it's who we think she is."

"I heard you went to France," Simon said. "How was that? I'm guessing given how tan you are that it was fantastic."

"It was amazing," Dominique said just as Ted suddenly cast an aimless look around through the crowd. "Honestly, we had the best time."

"I bet," Simon said. "Did your sister end up coming to the match?"

Ted returned his focus to Dominique, but she was glancing over her shoulder at something. "Yeah, she did…"

Simon had followed her gaze. His expression suddenly turned into one of pleasant surprise before he called out, "Hey Vicki!"

Ted turned. Through the thinning crowd of people who were busily making their way to their seats before the match, Victoire appeared several yards away. Had she been there all along? She looked startled at hearing her name, but was now tentatively making her way towards the group. She, like her sister, looked tan and healthy and her hair was lighter than it usually was thanks to sun exposure. All of this combined was making her features, especially her eyes, stand out. She, too, had paint on her face, but it looked almost accidental. Either way, she looked incredible and just seeing her made Ted's heartbeat accelerate. The fact that she was staring at him as she approached wasn't helping his sudden anxiousness, but he did manage a weak smile.

"How are you?" Susan asked pleasantly once Victoire approached. "You look great! I wish I could go out and get some sun."

Victoire smiled a little. "Thanks."

"Your sister here says you all had a blast in France," Simon said as he put his arm around Victoire. "Next time, I think you should take me. I don't take up much room and I don't eat much."

"Oh, right," said Phil sarcastically.

Simon laughed. "Oh, bugger off!"

"Maybe next time," Victoire said in an uncharacteristically timid tone.

Ted looked at the ground and felt the sudden urge to bounce on the balls of feet or jump off a building. He'd waited a month to see her and here it was. She was finally standing in front of him, looking as awkward as he felt, and yet, his mind was blank. He was still no closer to figuring anything out than they had been a month earlier. What was he even supposed to say to her?

He thought he could feel her eyes on him, so absently, he turned to check. Sure enough, she was staring at him. He smiled involuntarily, more out of nervous habit than anything else.

"Oh, hey," Simon said to Victoire as he pointed to Phil. "This charming git is Phil. We work together."

"Hi," he said with a small wave.

"And this," Simon continued as he gestured to Rachael, "is Rachael. She's Susan's best friend from school over in the states." He turned towards Rachael. "This is Victoire. She's Dominique's sister and she and Ted have been friends since they were in nappies."

Ted closed his eyes and grimaced slightly at this awkward mention, but heard Rachael laugh before saying. "It's nice to meet you." It was only then that he remembered he'd told her all about Victoire.

"You too," Victoire said with a quick breath. She took a step back from the group. "You'll have to excuse me, I'm just going to go and use the loo quickly."

"Oh, I'll come!" Susan said.

"Then can we go and sit?" Simon asked as he checked his watch. "The match starts in eight minutes."

"I'll be quick," Susan said as she turned to follow Victoire,who had already disappeared in the direction of the toilets without stopping to wait. Ted had managed to follow her swinging hair through the crowd until she disappeared completely from view.

"So, she did come," Simon said with a nod to Ted.

"You really thought she wasn't coming?" Dominique asked as Ted glanced at her. It only then hit him that she, too, knew about everything. He was suddenly surrounded by a group of people who all knew too much. That alone was unnerving.

"I didn't know if maybe she'd changed her mind," Ted said.

"Oh, she was coming," Dominique said with a short laugh.

"Where are your seats?" Simon asked Dominique before she pulled a ticket out from her pocket to show to him. The two began comparing seats just as Ted caught Rachael's eye.

She was grinning at him and suddenly mouthed, "Was that her?"

He nodded slowly.

She smiled and made a thoughtful face, but he could only muster a sheepish expression before taking the biggest breath he could possibly muster. He released it forcibly and began swinging his arms back and forth-in front of him and behind him-in an anxious sort of manner as he stared blankly at the ground.

"Restless much?" Rachael asked him.

"Little bit," he said.

"I'm getting restless myself," Phil said, checking his watch. "But don't worry, Ted. We've still got plenty of time to sit."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that," he said quickly. Rachael laughed.

"There you are," Dominique said suddenly. Ted turned and saw that she was talking to her sister. Victoire and Susan had just reappeared. "Come on, we still have to go all the way up. We're going to miss the release."

"Sorry," Victoire said, sounding somewhat dazed. Ted shifted his weight on his feet and noticed Simon trying to silently get his attention. He was pointing behind him and gesturing that they needed to go that way to get to their seats. Ted made a gesture as if to go on ahead without him.

"Fine," Dominique said to someone before turning to everyone else. "We'll see you all later."

"Enjoy the match!" Simon said as he and Phil started walking off in the direction of their seats. Susan and Rachael didn't follow them right away, but upon glancing in between Ted and Victoire, Rachael suddenly tugged on Susan's sleeve to follow after Simon. In turn, Ted simply stood there. He wasn't sure what to do, but he'd been waiting for this moment for a month. Now that it was here, he had to do something with it.

"Think about coming by," Susan yelled over her shoulder as she walked away. "I mean it!"

"Coming by where?" Dominique asked.

"Their tent after the match," said Victoire as she glanced from her sister, to Ted, and then back again.

"Can we actually see the match first?" Dominique asked.

"Yeah, we should go," Victoire said quickly. She looked up at Ted and spoke to him for the first time. "See you."

She took a quick step away. Everything about her demeanor conveyed that she didn't seem to want to talk to him right now; that she only wanted to escape the situation as fast as she could. In fact, he remembered that she hadn't even wanted to come over here in the first place. Had Simon not called her over, she probably wouldn't have.

Ted didn't know if it was because of him, or whether or not this just wasn't the best place to talk with everyone standing around waiting on them. It probably would be easier if they could manage some privacy, but at this point, he just didn't care. He'd go out in the center of the Quidditch pitch and talk to her if it meant he'd finally have an answer. But she was already walking away.

"You should come by later," he said before she got too far away to hear him. "Really."

She glanced back at him with a refreshing sort of optimism in her eyes. There were a hundred and one ways Ted could take that look, but he'd done enough speculating. He just wanted her to say something already; stop with the running away, stop with avoiding him, stop with all of this uncertainty. Just say something. He was standing here all alone. Everyone else he was with had gone ahead without him. All she had to do was say something.

She opened her mouth to speak and a quick jolt pulsed through Ted, but the sensation was short lived. At that very moment, she was suddenly being grabbed on the arm by her sister.

"Oh, let's hurry this up," Dominique said as she pulled Victoire along towards the stairs. She shouted over her shoulder. "We'll come. Even if I have to Imperius her to make her go!"

Whatever Victoire had wanted to say, she didn't. The second her sister pulled her off, she had immediately-almost eagerly-turned and followed her, disappearing moments later into the stairwell. Ted momentarily stared at the spot she had disappeared through before furrowing his brow and turning away.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said out loud to no one. He'd given her an open. All she had to do was not run off as fast as she could. All she had to do was tell her sister she'd catch up later. He would have even ditched the match to talk to her, yet she chose—again—to disappear. How long was she going to do this?

He took the palms of his hands and rubbed them into his eyes. He wasn't even sure if he was more annoyed with Dominique for pulling Victoire away or with Victoire for letting herself be pulled away.

A loud and raucous cheer suddenly erupted all around the stadium in every direction. The match had clearly started, though, at this point, Ted was so aggravated that he wasn't even sure if he wanted to sit through a Quidditch match. A part of him told him he should have chased her up the stairs and told her that they needed to talk now, but why was he the one who was required to do all the work? Ever since he'd read that letter, he'd done nothing but make himself accessible to talk and she'd done nothing but run away. Frankly, he was tired of being the one making all the effort. She could come to him.

He started walking off into the direction of where he'd seen his friends disappear off to. His desire to watch Quidditch was slowly starting to return. Suddenly, nothing sounded better than watching a bunch of people trying to pummel the crap out of each other for a few hours on end.


	28. Wins and Losses

The final score was 450 to 290. Argentina had won after catching the Snitch with just over two hours worth of some of the most intense Quidditch that Ted had ever seen. He would have never thought anything would have distracted her from what had just happened before the match, but he had been surprisingly wrong.

"I'm shocked," Simon said a few hours later as he, Ted, and several others all lounged around their campsite; drinking, eating, and recounting the match for the hundredth time. "I just can't believe Sabatino didn't catch the Snitch."

"The Italians really did get the piss kicked out of them, didn't they?" asked a man, whose name Ted couldn't remember. Unfortunately, he'd been talking to him for the last hour, so it felt a little out of place to ask now.

"Did anyone really not think Italy would get annihilated?" asked another one of Simon's coworkers who had stopped by.

"There are thousands of people here who didn't think that," Simon said as he gestured around to the other campsites. The noise and the celebrating had taken over the entire area. The Argentinians, and anyone who supported them, were screaming and yelling while the Italian supporters were either drinking their sorrows away or picking fights with particularly obnoxious Argentinian fans. In fact, over the course of the last hour, they'd seen three large fights break out.

"I'm just glad those idiots who were sitting in front of us finally got theirs," said Phil, whose screaming Italian hat had mysteriously disappeared somewhere in between the Quaffle's release and about a half an hour into the match.

"I was ready to kill the guy who kept turning his hat around so that everyone behind him could hear it screaming 'Italy,'" Ted said. "I was directly behind him, so I got an earful every damn time he did it."

"See," Phil began, "that's why I got rid of my hat. I didn't want to be associated with those morons."

"Right," Simon said sarcastically. "That's the reason. It had nothing to do with the fact that Italy went down a two hundred points almost straight away."

Phil shook his head. "No, nothing like that…"

Ted laughed and leaned back in his chair so that the two front legs were lifted from the ground. He stared up at the night sky, which not long ago had been a mixture of purples and dark blues as twilight turned into evening. Now it was pitch black and the stars were becoming more and more evident again the blanket of darkness. Out of nowhere, several fireworks appeared overhead and a few cheers erupted from somewhere not so far away.

"Where the hell did Sue go?" Simon suddenly asked.

"Last I saw," said one of his nameless coworkers, "she was over making nice with that camp you've got next door."

Simon pointed to his left. "That one? How's that? They don't speak English and she doesn't speak Spanish."

"I'm just telling you what I saw."

Ted let his chair fall forward with a small thud. He thought about how in just a few hours he'd have to be back at work, but he tried to push that thought out of his mind. The last thing he wanted to be reminded of was his responsibilities and everything that was awaiting him back in the real world.

"Look who it is," said Simon with a nod of his head at something behind Ted. As Ted turned himself in his chair to see, someone suddenly began drumming on the top of his head. He looked up from his chair and saw Louis Weasley standing there, grinning down at him. Dominique and their friend, Jack, stood beside him.

"So, we came," Dominique said, making her way to a nearby chair to sit. "Just like I said we would."

"What are you guys up to?" Louis asked around to the group. "What did you think of the match?"

With that-for the one-hundredth and first time-the large group began recounting the events of the Quidditch match with great enthusiasm. Ted hadn't joined in, though; instead he tuned the group out. He sat up straight and glanced around the campsite in search of Victoire, but noticed that she was nowhere to be seen. He checked again to be sure, but the same faces as before were the only ones he saw. She wasn't there. She hadn't come.

His face tensed. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take, or how much—

"She's over there," Dominique said suddenly, cutting into his thoughts. She was pointing towards the camp next door. "She ran into Simon's girlfriend and stopped to talk to her."

Oh. She had come. Well, then...He began drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair, not wanting to stand right away. He had hoped that she would seek him out and not the other way around, particularly after two failed attempts on his part to talk to her, but after a minute of forcing himself to stay seated, he stood up. He had no clue as to what he was going to do, but he was going to do something.

He set forth in the direction Dominique had indicated, turning the corner of the tent and immediately settled his sights on Victoire once she appeared. She was standing several yards away; talking with Rachael while Susan stood nearby talking with one of their Argentinean neighbors. Seeing Victoire talking to Rachael instantly made Ted's stomach tighten. He suddenly wondered why he'd been so open with Rachael about his feelings considering he barely knew her. For all he knew, she was telling Victoire everything he'd ever said. Then again, maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. At least someone would be getting some answers around here.

Rachael noticed him first and smiled. He took a deep breath and attempted to sound nonchalant. "Hey. What are you all doing over here?"

"Trying to communicate," Rachael said as she gestured towards Susan and the Argentinean man. Ted nodded a little and began watching them, having only just barely glanced at Victoire. What with everything that had happened earlier that day, he couldn't bring himself to pretend he still wasn't annoyed.

"Does anyone here speak Spanish?" Susan asked him.

Ted took a few steps towards her and shrugged. "Not that I know of, but ask him if he speaks French." He suddenly gestured towards Victoire without looking at her. "You can speak it, right?"

There was no immediate answer. When she finally did speak, her tone was cold. "You know I can."

He finally glanced at her. "Just checking," he said before looking away. He'd apparently touched a nerve. She was right, of course. He was well aware she spoke it fluently. He wasn't entirely sure what had possessed him to ask like he had, but a part of him couldn't help but think it was about time she got to share in this constant state of doubt. She could wonder where he was coming from for once.

"Do they speak a lot of French down in Argentina?" Susan asked before returning to her previous conversation.

"You can speak French?" Ted heard Rachael ask Victoire. "How fantastic. I've always wanted to know another language. I've just never had the patience to learn."

"Oh, well, my mum's French," Victoire said as her voice suddenly grew louder. "So, I've been speaking it MY ENTIRE LIFE."

Ted didn't have to even look at her to know that tone was being directed at him. He really had touched a nerve. Strangely enough though, her reaction made him want to smile. This was more like it. This was the Victoire he knew. It was the first time since she'd returned from France that any semblance of the usual take-no-crap Victoire had materialized. The shy, coy Victoire who had been avoiding him had all but disappeared right then, and in her place, the person he was more familiar with had returned. It almost made him want to say something else to set her off. If he kept this up, she wouldn't be able to avoid him. She'd be too busy yelling at him.

The Argentinean man suddenly threw his arms up into the air out of frustration. He'd giving up trying to communicate with Susan and turned back towards his tent without any further attempts.

"Perhaps later, then!" she called after him. She turned back towards everyone else. "Oh well…"

"Nice effort," said Ted with a yawn. "I think I'm going to go and sit."

"I suppose we'll go with you," Susan said lazily as the group began walking back towards the front of the tent, Ted leading the way. They walked in silence for all of ten second before Susan started up again, "So, what's your schedule like next week, Ted?"

"Working, I'm sure."

"You have to have some free time?"

"A few hours here and there," he said as he realized he was several feet ahead of the group. He slowed his pace so that the girls could catch up.

"You work too much," Susan said before gesturing to Victoire. "Doesn't he?"

"I guess," she mumbled.

Ted glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She still sounded annoyed, and the last thing he wanted to do was put even more awkwardness between them. As it were, the longer he looked at her, the only thing he could think about was how badly he wanted her. How on earth did she have the power to aggravate him one minute, only to turn around and make him want to kiss her the next?

"Well, it's a living," Ted said absently before taking a few quick steps ahead of the group and squeezing Victoire's arm as he passed by. He'd hoped she'd find the gesture familiar, if not a little flirtatious, though he mainly did it to silently apologize for his earlier comment. He didn't stop to gauge her reaction, as much as he wanted to, but rather kept walking without turning back. He was still convinced that she needed to make the next move.

He returned to his friends and continued on with his business as usual. He sat back down to recount the Quidditch match—again. He talked with Louis and Jack about school, rejoicing when he found out Hufflepuff had won the House Cup in part due to Dominique being suspended from the final Quidditch match for her involvement in the fight with Colleen Lynch. Dominique didn't seem to find that as funny as he did, however.

He recounted to them about Albus's stay in the hospital, and then listened as Simon did impersonations of everyone. He did nothing out of the ordinary, but still, Victoire seemed to be keeping her distance. He knew this because he constantly found himself checking to see where she was and looking out for her. Involuntarily even, he would find himself in the middle of a conversation with someone and suddenly just do a sweep of the site to see where she was. In fact, the few occasions she did come close enough for them to even gauge each other properly-usually to talk to her siblings-she would act as if he wasn't even there. That was the impression he was getting, at least.

He would watch her and wonder how she expected him to sit there-five feet away-and just pretend like things were normal again. Clearly they weren't. Normal for them was talking and having something to do with one another; this was essentially the polar opposite of normal. He couldn't even be bothered to sit there if she was going to act like this. So, after biding his time after each instance and waiting to see if she would do anything, he continued to stand and walk away.

After over an hour of this, as he stared into the campfire listening to people talk around him, he wondered what exactly was supposed to happen next. She clearly wasn't going to say anything to him and they clearly weren't going to bounce back from this without talking things out. Was she afraid to say something, or did she just not want to say something? Why was this so much harder than it needed to be?

"Hey Ted," said Susan as she sat down in a chair near him. Rachael had followed her over and taken a chair nearby. "Are you okay? You seem preoccupied."

He smiled a little. "When am I ever not preoccupied?"

Susan shrugged. "It's because you work too hard. You need more fun in your life."

Ted smiled at her. "You sound like an advertisement for a holiday travel package."

She made a face, but Rachael laughed. "He's right, Sue, you do."

"Well, he does," Susan said. "And you do too, Rachael. You could both use a little fun in your lives."

"And let me guess," Rachael said heavily, "we could have that fun together, right?"

Susan looked at her with a surprised expression, but Ted laughed and glanced at Rachael. She was rolling her eyes, but she was patting Susan affectionately on the back at the same time.

"I..." Susan began, but Rachael was already cutting her off.

"Oh, Sue, don't ever change."

Ted stared into the fire and waited for an amusing rebuttal on Susan's part to follow, but was surprised when she instead said, "Hi there."

He glanced at her to see what that had meant, but saw that she and Rachael were looking just beyond him. When he turned he was almost surprised to see that Victoire and Dominique had just appeared and were now standing side-by-side right beside him.

"Hello!" Dominique said with an unusual eagerness in her voice. She grabbed a nearby lawn chair and placed it down just next to Ted, throwing him a peculiar smile as she did so. "What's up, Lupin?"

"Not much…" he said, his curiosity suddenly piqued given her behavior. "What's up with you?"

"Oh, nothing," she said as she glanced at her sister. "Anything up with you, Vic?"

She begrudged a smile. "Not really, no."

"Liar," muttered Dominique in a poor attempt to keep her voice down. She rounded back on everyone and smiled. "So, Rachael and Susan, is it?"

They both nodded.

"You two both went to school at Salem, right? What was that like? I've heard terrible things about it."

"Terrible?" Rachael asked.

"Oh, yeah," she continued. "That it's really not such a great school and a miserable place to be."

"Where'd you hear that?" Susan asked. "It was anything but! I mean we," she gestured in between Rachael and herself, "loved it."

"I don't know, I've heard some pretty bad stuff," Dominique said skeptically as Ted found himself staring at her. Where exactly was she going with this?

"Like what?" Susan asked.

"That the students get hit and that the facilities are poor," Dominique said dismissively.

"What?!" said both Rachael and Susan in unison before Rachael added, "That couldn't be further from the truth!"

"Well, tell me about it," Dominique said, showing extreme interest. "I'm really curious and I would hate to have the wrong idea." She stood up and gestured from her now vacant seat to her sister. "I'm going to go and sit down by them so I can hear them properly, so feel free to take my seat." She smiled. "Well, that is unless you're about to go off and have a private conversation somewhere else, in which case you may as well stay standing."

"Oh, subtle," Victoire mumbled as Ted found himself thinking the exact same thing. He knew exactly what Dominique was playing at now, though it wasn't as if the song-and-dance distraction ploy was really necessary. All Victoire had to do was ask him to talk.

As Dominique switched seats, Victoire hesitantly took a seat in the now empty chair and focused her eyes straight ahead. Neither of them said anything for a long moment, but Victoire must have crossed and uncrossed her legs twice in the awkward thirty seconds of silence that transpired between them.

"So, what's new?" Ted finally asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing really. You?"

He shook his head. "Not a thing."

"My, how exciting we are," she said with a small smile.

He smiled and nodded without looking at her. Were they really making mundane small talk? They'd known each other their entire lives and this is what a letter and a month in France had reduced them to?

"Work's good, then?" she asked tentatively, continuing with the forced and awkward chit-chat that Ted was sure neither of them really wanted to be having.

"Yeah," he said as he straightened up. "You know, busy, but okay."

"That's good."

He inhaled sharply before glancing down at where Susan and Rachael were still trying to set Dominique straight about their school. Dominique was doing a great job of pretending that she actually cared; he had to give her that. He turned back to Victoire. "How was France?"

"Great. Really great."

He nodded and looked at the ground. "Glad to hear it."

"Fantastic…" she muttered slowly.

"Wonderful," he quipped in return.

"Brilliant," she quipped right back.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Magnificent," he said to keep things going.

"Outstanding."

"Glorious."

"Stupendous," she said with a trace of a smile.

He looked at her. "Is that a real word?"

She wrinkled her nose and looked him in the eye for the first time. "Of course it is."

"I've always thought it sounded so made up," he said, suddenly unable to think about anything else other than how cute she was when she wrinkled her nose like that. "But I'll believe you because it's you."

"Would you like me to think of another more Ted Lupin approved word?" she joked. "I can keep going."

He smiled. "Yeah, I bet you could." He bit his lip and looked away. If he let this moment slip away from him, he was an idiot. A complete and utter idiot. He just had to keep things going and work his way into this. He cracked his knuckles and looked back at her. "What'd you think of the match?" he asked.

"It was exciting," she said as she started bouncing her knee up and down.

"Yeah, it was crazy," he said. "I bet Albus is mad, though. He loves Sabatino and was really pulling for Italy."

"He threw his hat away on the walk back. You know the annoying screaming ones?"

Ted groaned. "The bloke sitting in front of me had one of those on and I was ready to throttle him. I would have thrown Al's away for him if he hadn't done it."

"Your toys used to be just as annoying," she laughed and turned to face him, "which is probably why we hid them." She crossed her legs again just then and her right knee found itself merely an inch away from his.

"What?" he asked, having already forgotten what she'd said. His mind was now entirely focused on other things. Her knee being so close had suddenly sent his head into a tailspin of various reactions. It made him want to get closer to her; it made him want to grab it affectionately, to grab her, to kiss her, to do so many things to her, for her, with her…all of which were now running one by one through his mind. He knew he wouldn't be able to do this small talk thing for much longer.

He moved his leg so that it was now resting against hers. It was really a nothing gesture, but at the same time, it was huge. He stared at her face to see if the physical contact evoked any sort of reaction from her, and when he saw her eyes dart straight to where both of their knees were touching, he decided to run with it.

"Look, can we talk?" she said suddenly.

"Are you thirsty?" he asked, glancing towards the tent.

"What?" she mumbled before Ted stood and started walking ahead towards the tent. He'd heard what she had said, he had just hoped she would follow him. Though, as he entered and passed a small group of people who were sitting in the living area talking, he noticed she hadn't. He made his way over towards the small kitchen area to search for a glass when the entrance to the tent moved again. Victoire slowly entered and began silently taking in her surroundings. It took her a second to notice him standing in the kitchen, but once she did, she began slowly walking towards him.

He pulled a glass out of the cupboard. "Want anything?" he asked.

"I'm good, thanks," she said as she crossed her arms and continued looking around the room.

"That one's mine." He pointed towards his room as if she had just asked him.

She let her gaze hang on him for a moment before cutting away and walking towards where he had indicated. Ted took an extra second to pull out his wand and fill his empty glass with water, which he quickly downed in a single gulp before filling it again. Once her back was turned, he took a deep breath. Now or never.

He followed her over towards his room. She was still lingering around the entrance, looking in as though she was inspecting everything from the outside. He brushed past her to enter and immediately reached for the rope that controlled the canvas entrance flap. He pulled it so that it would fall close, but caught it halfway when he noticed Victoire was still standing in the living room. She looked a little confused as to what he wanted her to do. Without saying a word, he made a motion with his head for her to enter, which she did once it dawned on her. As soon as she stepped through, he let the rope go. The flap fell to the ground with a swooshing sound.

"If I don't do that, everyone and their brother will just come walking in," he said absently before he crossed the room to sit on the bed.

She didn't say anything. She merely nodded and continued to stand there.

He cracked his knuckles and looked at her. He had so many things he wanted to say, but yet, none of them seemed to want to focus in his mind. Where was he supposed to even start? He finally had her undivided attention after all of her running and...

His mind stopped swimming. He suddenly knew exactly what he needed to know. Before he said or asked anything else, there was one thing he had to know.

"So, why'd you run off?" he asked.

"Why did I run off?" she asked in a surprised tone. She almost looked surprised at the mere sound of his voice.

"That night after I read—"

"I knew what you meant," she said. "I'm just surprised you're asking. I thought the answer was fairly obvious."

He looked away. That was news to him. "I waited for you to come back."

"I know," she said quietly.

"I thought it would be better to get this all out before you took off for a month, but I guess you didn't."

She sighed. "I was humiliated, Ted. I didn't know what to say to you. What was I supposed to say?"

He shook his head. "Anything. It's not as if I was going to think any less of you."

"Given the way you've been acting tonight," she said, "it's apparent you don't think any more of me, either."

His eyes shot to hers. What the hell did that even mean? "I didn't say that."

"You haven't said much of anything," she said a little more adamantly than before. "You've pretty much been avoiding me."

He stared at her incredulously. He was avoiding her? Was she serious? "You ran off to France without a word and I'm the one avoiding you?"

"Don't act as if I ran off to France to escape this," she said as she crossed her arms in front her. "You know that's not true at all."

He continued to stare at her. She may not have run to France intentionally, but just because she planned her trip out a few months in advance didn't mean that it didn't serve the same purpose. She still left and made no attempt to contact him, which added up to an escape in his book.

"So, you're mad at me for running off, then?" she asked after a moment. "That's why you wouldn't talk to me or why you're pretending to barely know me?"

"Pretending to barely know you?" he asked in disbelief. Was she listening to herself? "What on earth are you talking about—?"

"'Hey Victoire, can you speak French?'" she mocked in the way he had said it earlier. "'Just checking.'"

"Oh, that," he mumbled. "I was annoyed."

"So, why did you ask me to come tonight?" she asked as her voice began to rise. "If you're so annoyed and want to ignore me, why did you want me to come?"

"Because we obviously needed to talk," he said, getting more and more defensive by the second. "And now we are, so…" He trailed off. He didn't even know what else to say. Now he was starting to get annoyed.

"So, what?"

"So, I don't know," he said as he started rubbing his eyes. How on earth did this get turned around on him? Was he going insane? He still could have sworn that she was the one who ran off—twice now—and that she'd been the one ignoring him, no matter how much she claimed he was ignoring her. How was he suddenly the prat in all of this?

The bed suddenly creaked beside him. He lowered his hands and saw that she had sat down the length of the bed, her hands folded in her lap. Her face looked full of various expressions, but Ted turned away before he could bother to try and pinpoint any of them. He was tired of this up and down, left and right, inside and out, roundabout dance they were doing. A part of him was so tired that he wondered if this was even the right thing anymore...

"What I wrote," she said suddenly, her steady voice cutting through the tension in the air like a knife. "I meant it. And I still do. I wrote that letter as a way to get everything out so that I could stop thinking about you, but you weren't supposed to read it. I wanted to tell you in person and not have you read it in a letter."

He turned and looked at her. In an instant, it felt as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room. She'd finally stopped running.

"And I've spent the last month terrified of what you would say and of what you thought, and I'm terrified of losing my best friend, but I couldn't not tell you and just pretend like everything was normal. I would have exploded. I needed you to know how I felt and now you do." She paused and took a deep breath. "And that's it."

He continued to stare at her. Hearing her say this suddenly made all of the bullshit that they'd been putting each other through for the last month seem like it was completely irrelevant. Why should he have expected things to be easy? Since when was getting what you want in life easy? He, of all people, should know that.

He knew right then that there was a reason he'd stuck this out. If he hadn't really wanted this, he would have given up ages ago, but as it was, he wanted it…And at this exact second, he wanted it more than anything. He wanted her more than anything. He'd never felt anything comparable to this intense pulling sensation that he was currently feeling towards her. It was as though someone had knocked a world's worth of sense into him in an instant. Everything was suddenly crystal clear.

"You wouldn't have lost me," he finally said.

She turned to him and looked as though she wanted to smile. He did smile, knowing that it was his turn now to say something. He just needed to focus his thoughts and formulate the best way to go about this. At that very moment though, someone suddenly pulled the entrance flap of his room back.

"Hey, there you are, mate," Simon said as he appeared in the entrance way. "Do you think you could—?"

"Sort of busy, Simon," Ted snapped.

"I…" He looked surprised. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Yes," Ted and Victoire said at the same time.

"Oh, sorry, then," he said with a shrug as he let himself out. "Just come find me when you're done."

Ted shook his head. Leave it to Simon to find the worst possible moment to cause a disruption. "Sorry about that," he mumbled.

Victoire shrugged sheepishly.

"So," he began, trying to pick up where he'd left off. Truth be told, he wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. Adding, "Hey, I like you, too…" after she'd just poured her heart seemed like a rather lame following. How was he supposed to top that?

"Just be honest with me, Ted," Victoire said suddenly as her body tensed. "I'm just tired of wondering if—"

"Can I ask you something?"

"What haven't I told you?" she asked with a nervous laugh.

"When," he began before clearing his throat, "did you realize you felt…You know, about me?"

She seemed to consider this. "I'm not sure. It sort of just happened. I smelled you back in January in the—"

"Wait, you what?" He immediately pulled the front of his shirt up to his nose to sniff himself. He smelled now?

She laughed. "No, don't laugh, but it was in the Amortentia. I didn't know it was you right away, though. I had to figure it out."

"Seriously?" he asked. He let that revelation sink in for a second. Amortentia was the real deal. If she picked him up in that, then she really wasn't kidding. You could fool yourself, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't fool a love potion. Why hadn't he thought of that during the days and days of wondering what his feelings for her really were? He worked with potions, for Merlin's sake! How did that never dawn on him? He almost wanted to laugh, but one glance at Victoire suddenly made him realize why he'd never resulted in testing himself with a love potion. He didn't need one. He never needed one. He already knew.

It was right then that he knew he wanted to kiss her. He just needed to figure out the best way to do it. Thinking back as to how he'd gone about this sort of thing before, it suddenly occurred to him that of the girls he'd kissed in the past, they had both kissed him first. Both Celia and Elizabeth had been the one to make that pivotal first move. That didn't help him much...

But then, out of nowhere, a random memory materialized in his mind. It was years before, on a cloudy day. He'd been standing outside of the Hogwarts's castle worrying about his date with Celia when Victoire herself had told him: "Just do it. Be spontaneous and find the moment and just do it. It's far more romantic that way…" He stared straight ahead and almost had to laugh. What a coincidence.

He looked her in the eyes. Now he just had to find the moment. "What do I smell like?" he asked as he noticed she was still sitting too far away for him to just do it. He'd have to move over.

"Sort of like potions," she said. "It's probably just like you smell right now."

"I don't smell anything," he said as he smelled his shirt again. He was all too aware that he did usually carry a potion scent around with him, but he didn't think it was a defining sort of characteristic. If she got close enough to smell him now, she couldn't possibly say that he always-

And then it hit him. He knew exactly what he should do.

She was laughing. "You're probably not going to be able to smell yourself."

"My shirt smells like soap," he said as he held out his collar towards her. "See for yourself."

"I really can't explain it, Ted," she said as she moved over a little and leaned towards him to smell, just as he had hoped she would. She was literally inches from his face. Close enough for him to smell her hair and see the small scar above her eyebrow. Easily close enough for him to…

"It's just sort of—" she began, but she didn't get to finish that sentence. In that moment, he leaned in and met her lips with his with one swift movement.

It was a move that even he was a little surprised to have made. Far smoother than anything he'd been able to achieve in the past, he wasn't even nervous. It seemed natural. So natural in fact, he reached up and grabbed the side of her face to pull her closer without a second thought. There was no little voice in the back of his head trying to get him to second guess himself, and no overwhelming urge for him to worry about what he was doing. It just felt right.

When he did finally pull away, he added, "I didn't smell you in anything, but I just sort of knew."

"You…" She blinked a few times. Her cheeks were pink now and she seemed to still be reeling from what had just happened. "What…?"

He smiled at her. "I just sort of knew. I told myself I was making it all up, but then when I realized that I was attracted to you on top of everything..." He stopped and remembered back to that the very first time when she was in his bed, taking off her sweater. He'd had at least ten dreams that had started with that exact scenario. It seemed ages ago, but even just remembering it sent a pang of excitement through him that made him suddenly want to laugh. He might as well tell her. "Okay, this is going to make me sound bad, but remember when you were smashed at my flat?"

She nodded.

"Well, um, you took off your jumper because you were hot or something, and something in me just sort of stopped functioning properly because I couldn't get that image of you out of my head for days."

Her mouth dropped and her cheeks got even pinker.

"You have to realize," he said, "you were in my bed, taking off your jumper, and I never realized that you could look like that." He laughed a little. "What was I supposed to think?"

"I can't believe…" she said with a curious smile. "You know, I wanted to kiss you that night. I really did."

"Oh, don't say that." He said with a small groan. Knowing they could have been doing this months ago was the last thing he needed to hear. "You were drunk though, so I wouldn't have—"

"I know." She smiled. "Trust me, I know."

Of course she knew. She always knew.

He puffed up his cheeks and released with a laugh. "So…" he said.

"So," she repeated. "What now?"

"What now…" he mumbled. It was a good question. What now? What changes now besides the obvious? "Well, we can do a few things. We can pretend none of this ever happened—"

"I'd rather not," she said almost immediately.

He grinned. "Me neither. Well, we can just continue snogging like mad, which is always fun."

She smiled and nodded as if considering this.

"Or," he said as his tone grew serious. "We can actually do this. You and me."

She pursed her lips and looked as though was actually thinking each option over carefully. "The third options sounds good…" she joked. "But I'd like to hear the second one again."

"We could always combine those two. I wouldn't be against it."

"Well, then I'm sold," she said with a smile.

He grinned and let himself lean back on the bed. After all of that, he felt like he needed to lie down…Or run a marathon, he wasn't sure. He almost wasn't convinced that everything that had just happened had actually happened. It seemed dreamlike to actually be with Victoire or to think that she was now so much more than just his friend. Any minute now, he was probably going to wake up.

He glanced at her hand that was lying beside her on the bed and grabbed it in his just to see if he could; just because he knew he could. It was small and currently cold, but even with as cold as it was, it felt right in his.

She smiled back at him, still sitting on the bed's edge as she had been the moment before. She, too, seemed a little confused as to what to do next. He knew exactly how she felt. When you've spent seventeen years relating to someone in a particular way, the transition from friend to more-than-friend can't be expected to be instant. It would take some getting used to, but Ted was excited to see how they would do it. He was excited to see how people would react, though he was sure they'd get some completely shocked reactions. Particularly her family…

"Is your dad going to kill me?" he asked suddenly.

"It's a possibility," she joked. "I'd be more worried about my mum."

"Lucky me, then," he said as he smiled up at the canvas ceiling before letting his eyes fall back to her. She was still sitting on the edge of bed. Why was she over there? Granted, they were less than six inches apart, but at the moment, he felt as though that even seemed like too much. With the hand he was holding, he suddenly pulled her down towards him and kissed her again. If they wanted to transition from friends to more, he couldn't think of a better way to help speed the process along.


	29. Keeping Secrets

It was slow and slightly awkward at first, each attempting to figure out the other person's nuances and techniques. Ted was actually surprised by how timid Victoire seemed given her usual aggressiveness, but apparently she was just trying to get used to things. After a good five minutes of watching where elbows went, trying to position themselves where they were comfortable, and trying not to fall off the already small bed—all while still kissing—things slowly worked themselves out into a steady groove. They both got more and more into things the longer they kissed, and the longer they kissed, the most intense and aggressive they both became. At some point, Ted had—most willingly—pulled his shirt off and tossed it across the room somewhere. Given the way his mindset was currently focused on Victoire and Victoire alone, he really couldn't care less if he ever saw it again.

After nearly an hour since they had begun, Victoire finally pulled back several inches away from Ted's face. Her face was flushed and her hair was messy and out of place as she tried to push it off her face. "It's hot in here."

"You think?" Ted asked as he put his arm behind his head. "I'm sweating."

She smiled. "I know…"

"It's your fault," he said, matching her smile before leaning up to kiss her again.

She pulled away again once hair fell forward again and landed in Ted's face. "I need something to put my hair back. It keeps falling in your face."

"I don't even notice," he said as he moved the hair hanging around the left side of her face and pushed it back. He kissed her cheek and moved slowly down to her neck.

"How do you not notice? It's probably gotten in my mouth six or seven times," she paused," which mean it's gotten in your mouth six or seven times…"

"I've been busy focusing on other parts, to be honest," he said between kissing her, his voice muffled against her neck. "More interesting parts."

"I'll have you know that my hair is fascinating," she joked.

He stopped kissing her and laughed into the side of her neck. "Your hair is amazing, but…"

She suddenly pushed him back down so that he was flat against the mattress. She smirked down at him. "But what?"

He shrugged innocently. "But…I don't know."

She continued grinning as she held her locked arm in place to keep him pinned down. "Oh, no, I'd love to hear what parts you find more interesting?"

"You want me to say it?"

She nodded.

He cleared his throat. "Okay, well, your lips."

"You've always been such a terrible liar."

"No, seriously," he said as he moved her arm so that she'd fall forward against his chest. "That's definitely one."

"Okay, fine," she said as she lay against his chest. She folded her arms in front of her so that she could rest her head on them and meet him face to face. "That's one. What else?"

"Your eyes."

She cocked her eyebrow skeptically, but half smiled. "Fine. Two."

"Are you trying to get me to admit to something?" he asked with a smile.

She rolled off of him so that she was now lying between him and the wall of the tent. Positioning her elbow at an angle so that her head was now resting on her hand, she smiled at him. "Maybe I am."

He smiled up at the ceiling. "All right, well, your skin, your shoulders, your teeth, your ears, your hands, your back, your stomach," he took a breath, "your legs, your feet, your elbows, your nose," he leaned forward and kissed it as he said it, "your chin, your forehead, your knees, your fingers, your toes, your eyebrows." He nodded. "Did I forget anything?"

She laughed and rolled onto her back so that they were side by side. "Just my chest and my arse."

"Oh," he said, faking oblivious. "Did I? Yeah, well, who cares about that?"

"Given the placement of your hands about five, ten, fifteen, and twenty minutes ago," she turned and smiled at him. "I'd say you just might."

He shook his head. "You just wanted me to say it."

She laughed again. "I cannot believe that we're in here talking about you feeling me up, after we've just spent the last…" She sat up and looked around. "How long have we been in here?"

Ted checked his watch. "About an hour."

"…After we've just spent the last hour fooling around."

"You can't believe it in general or you can't believe it because it's you and me?"

"How is there a difference?" she asked as she let her head fall back down onto the pillow.

He shrugged, but didn't answer. They were both silent for a moment until Victoire finally asked. "Do you even know where your shirt went?"

He looked down. He's almost forgotten he'd taken it off at some point. He leaned over the edge of the bed and started searching the floor, finding it just out of reach. He lurched himself forward to get it, almost falling off the bed in the process. Victoire managed to grab his arm before he did.

"Crisis averted," he said as he sat up and pulled it back over his head.

Victoire smiled at him. "We should probably go back out there. People have to wonder where we went."

"Let them," he said as he lay back down and turned so that he was facing her. "You know the last thing they think we're doing is snogging on my camp bed."

"True," she said as she started running her fingers absently up and down his forearm. "Can you imagine people's reactions? Everyone's going to…" She made a face. "They're going to make a huge deal out of it."

"Probably," he said. "It is sort of a huge deal."

"Is it?"

"To me it is," he said frankly.

"Oh, I know to us it is," she agreed. "This is huge for us, but for everyone else…" She looked away from him and shook her head. "I just wish we could enjoy it for a little bit before my family and everyone else starts making a fuss over it."

"We can enjoy it," he said. "Things are going to change, but how different can things really get?"

"Trust me," she said as her face grew serious. "When my parents find out we're together, do you really think they're just going to let us hang about with the amount of freedom we have now?"

He shrugged, even though he knew the answer was probably not.

Victoire groaned a little before leaning into him and letting her head rest against his chest. "Can we just not tell anyone?

He wrapped his arms around her. "That's pretty much impossible."

She pulled back a little and looked him in the eye, her face serious. "What if we don't tell them right away?"

He stared at her. "How would we—?"

"I'm serious," she said as she pulled herself into a sitting position. "I go back to school in a month. What if…?" She trailed off and her eyes lit up as an apparent idea started formulating in her head. "What if we just wait until I'm back at school to tell people?"

"What?"

"Think about it," she said as she actually pulled herself off the bed and stood up. She started pacing slightly. "We keep it a secret for a month. Then you, or I, or one of us tells someone. You'd probably tell Harry, I'm sure. They'll have months to get used to the idea before I come home for Christmas break and by then, we'll be old news."

He laughed a little as he watched her. It wasn't a terrible idea, but at the same time, it seemed a bit much. "You're serious?"

She turned and stared at him. "You think it won't work?"

"It'll work," Ted said as he sat up. "I can keep a secret, but," he shrugged, "I don't know. I'm tired of keeping secrets."

"We don't have to keep it completely secret," she said as she started smoothing out her clothes. "We can tell some people, just not my family. Not yet. That's trickier."

Ted smiled. "If that's what you want."

"You see where I'm coming from, right? I mean, this isn't just me trying to keep us under cover. I'm not trying to hide the fact…"

"Vic," he said with a lazy smile as he stood up. "I know, and honestly, I think you're onto something. I'm just not looking forward to the fall out when your parents put two and two together and figure out that we were together during all those times they let you come over for hours at a time."

"I'll worry about that," she said as if it was no big deal. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him quickly. As she stood back, she suddenly looked him up and down. "That's a lot harder to do when you're standing up. We'll have to work on that."

"Maybe you should grow a few inches," he joked. "I know a stretching charm or two."

"Or maybe you should shrink," she countered before glancing towards the entrance way. "We really should go back out there. I can only wander off for so long without Nic and Lou starting to ask questions. Plus, didn't Simon need something?"

"Simon needs lots of things," Ted joked. "I can only help him with so much. He's probably got a new girl he wants me to meet."

"Well, I hope she's cute," Victoire joked as they stepped back out into the open air of the night. Not much had really changed since they had disappeared into the tent, except for the fact that there were a few less people around. Mostly, it seemed as though everyone was carrying on with the same amount of talking, yelling, cheering, drinking, eating, and madness that had been occurring earlier.

"It'll be weird keeping this a secret," Victoire said as she gazed around.

"And if someone finds out?" Ted asked her as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Some people are bound to find out," she said. "But we'll just do what we can."

"I'm going to have to tell Simon," he whispered. "If I don't, he's going to keep trying to fix me up with people."

She smiled at him, but her focus quickly shot up to the top of his head. "Your hair is out of control."

He smiled. "Oh, does it look like I've just spent the last hour fooling around in a tent? Because that's what it should look like."

"Yes, actually," she said as she reached up and attempted to straighten it out. "It looks just like that."

"Just so you know," he whispered, thoroughly enjoying the closeness between them. "Your hair isn't much better." He pivoted his head forward ever so slightly to kiss her, having already forgotten that they weren't exactly supposed to be advertising this if they were trying to keep things quiet. Luckily, a reminder happened to arrive at that very moment.

"Hey, there you are," said Louis's familiar voice. Ted immediately stood up straight just as Victoire, with lightning speed, retracted her hand out of his hair. Louis and Dominique were both approaching them. "Where'd you two disappear off to?"

Ted glanced at Victoire, who shook her head. "Nowhere."

"Nowhere?" Dominique asked as she looked from Victoire to Ted. "Nowhere for over an hour?"

"Just for a walk," she said defensively, "around the campsite and what not."

Louis nodded, but Dominique just stood there smirking at the pair of them very particularly. She seemed to have clearly figured things out in less than a minute.

"Well, are you almost ready to head back to camp?" Louis asked Victoire. "It's getting late."

"You have to come and talk to Simon with me," Ted said before she could answer. He looked over his shoulder and noticed Simon sitting just across site and engaged in some conversation.

She glanced back at her siblings. "You guys just go on ahead."

"I'll walk her back," Ted offered as he took a few steps in the direction of where Simon was currently sitting. He was more than curious as to what his reaction would be. It was better just to get things over with.

"Alright," Louis said as he turned and began walking in the opposite direction. Dominique, however, continued to stand there smirking. Ted stopped once he noticed she wasn't following her brother.

"What?" Victoire asked her.

"A walk around the campsite?" Dominique asked, looking as though she was trying not to laugh.

Victoire shrugged.

"Right," she said as she turned to leave, but not before pointing at Ted. "Hey, Lupin, your shirt's on inside out."

He immediately looked down and checked the seams. He was positive he had put it back on properly and, after a quick inspection, he saw he had. Dominique was mistaken. "No, it's not."

"Ugggg…" she groaned, making a disturbed face before turning to walk away. "You had to check."

He closed his eyes and made a sheepish face at having been caught. He'd actually fallen for that? How thick could he get?

When he opened his eyes, Victoire was smiling at him. "So much for keeping it a secret."

"Oh, she was bound to find out," he countered quickly.

She walked over and patted him affectionately on the back. "I'll just have to blackmail her or bribe her not to tell everyone," she teased as they both started walking towards where Simon was currently sitting and talking. When he noticed them approaching, he threw his hand up in the air.

"About time," he said. "I was wondering when you two would be done talking."

Ted smirked at Victoire. "Well, in our defense, we finished talking ages ago."

"Then what took you so long?"

Both he and Victoire exchanged smiles, before he shrugged. "We had some stuff we had to take care of. Anyway, what'd you want earlier?"

"I just wanted you to come out here and hang out instead of running off to hide," he said. He was trying to nonchalantly gesture to where several girls were currently sitting. "You know, get to know certain people. Perhaps things could happen…"

Ted smirked. "You are a man dedicated to the cause, mate."

"Vicki, will you do me a favor," Simon said, turning towards her. "Maybe he'll listen to you. Tell him he needs to realize that work isn't everything and that he needs to have a little fun."

She turned towards Ted, looking ready to dutifully do what Simon had asked. The second their eyes met, Ted couldn't hide his smile. Upon seeing him smile, she started smiling, too. "Ted, you need to have a little fun."

"And," Simon continued, "that he needs to start dating again, because he's been hiding himself up for far too long."

Ted actually laughed this time. Victoire tried her best to contain her own laughter as she stood there and repeated, "And you need to start dating more. You've been hiding yourself up for far too long."

"I wholeheartedly agree," he said before they both glanced back at Simon.

"Anything else?" Victoire asked him.

Simon sighed and stared at Ted. "I'm just looking out for you."

"I know you are," he smiled, "but I'm actually doing well. In fact—" He glanced at Victoire. He wished he had a camera for when Simon reacted. "The whole reason I'm not cooperating is that I'm already seeing someone."

"You're full of shit," Simon said. He looked as if he'd never heard anything less true in his life.

"Am I lying?" he asked Victoire.

She shook her head.

"When did this happen, then?" he asked. "How long have you been keeping this a secret?"

Ted sighed. "You could say it was a long time coming."

"Years, in fact," Victoire added.

"So, who is it?" Simon asked as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Do I know her?"

Victoire smiled. "Quite well."

Simon continued to stare at Ted while waiting for him to answer. Ted just continued to stare right back. He had to see where they were going with this. He and Victoire were practically spelling it out for him, but Simon continued to look at him just as clueless as before. Ted finally nodded his head towards Victoire beside him.

Simon turned her. "He wants you to tell me."

Ted laughed. "No," he said, realizing that maybe he should give Simon the benefit of the doubt. This apparently wasn't as obvious to everyone else as he assumed it was. He reached out and grabbed Victoire's hand, which seemed to surprise her. "No, it is her."

It took him a moment, but just as Ted had thought, Simon's jaw dropped and his eyes all but popped out of his head. "Shut the hell up."

They both nodded.

"I don't believe it."

"It's true," Victoire said.

"Took us long enough, huh?" Ted asked. He thought Simon of all people would think that was funny. He, however, just continued to gawk.

"But you two aren't allowed…" he muttered. "Wait, are you taking the piss?"

"No," Victoire said as she shook her head. "No, we wouldn't do that."

"Because, Ted, if you want me to stop trying to fix you up, just say so," he said. "You don't have to make up stuff."

"I swear to you that we are not kidding," Ted said as he dropped Victoire's hand and took several steps forward so that he and Simon were face to face. "We've been trying to work this out for some time now. I'm not making this up. I really am in love with her."

Simon's head looked ready to explode from the suddenness of this news. He continued staring Ted in the eye and looked like he was expecting a "just kidding!" to come at any given moment. "Prove it," he finally said.

"What?" Ted said with a laugh. "Prove it how? What exactly do you expect us to do—?"

He was cut off mid-sentence by a sudden pair of arms being flung around his neck. Then and there, Victoire had walked over and planted a much unexpected kiss on him for any and all to see. This definitely wasn't how he was used to keeping secrets.

As she pulled away, she looked at Simon. "That's about as much proof as I'm willing to give you."

If possible, Simon's jaw managed to fall open more, but he quickly turned that into a laugh of pure disbelief. He took a few steps away and simply continued to laugh almost manically.

"I think we broke him," Ted said.

"You and I need to talk," Simon said, pointing at Ted. "Shit, do we need to talk."

"I assumed as much."

"Do I need to give you two a minute?" Victoire asked with fake concern as she gestured between them.

"And you…" Simon said as he now pointed at her. "Oh, Victoire…" He forced a frown onto his face.

She smiled. "What?"

He shook his head. "Seriously?"

"Do I need to give you two a minute?" Ted joked.

Victoire walked over and put her arm around Simon. "I know we had all these plans to get married and all, but you moved on, so I had to, too. It was hard, but," she made her face solemn. "It had to be done."

"Okay, now I even have more of a reason to tell you to stop encouraging him," Ted said.

"You, shut up," Simon joked as he hugged Victoire and twirled her around. He set her down just as Susan happened to appear with a Quaffle in her hand. She lobbed it to Ted.

"I finally managed to figure that Argentinian guy out," she said once he caught it. "He was trying to teach us this crazy game. You should see it."

"Hey Sue," Simon said nodding towards Ted. "Teddy's got himself a girlfriend and you will never in a million years guess who it is." He grabbed Victoire by the shoulders in an obvious attempt to draw attention to her. "Never in a million years."

"So, the rumors are true," Susan said with a smile. "Congratulations."

Simon made a face. "What rumors?"

"Rachael mentioned something," she said. "I was looking for you both not too long ago and she mentioned you two were trying to work something out. I think she was just trying to get me to shut up about fixing her up with Ted, but," she grinned, "I think it's really cute."

"How did Rachael know, but I didn't?" Simon asked, though, just then, Victoire walked back over and took Ted's hand. She tugged on it for him to follow her.

"It's almost midnight," she said as Susan and Simon continued discussing why Simon was so out of the loop. "I really don't want to, but I probably should be heading back to camp."

He twisted his mouth into a frown. "You don't have to go back."

"They're probably going to wonder where I am."

"They know you're with me. It's not as if they think you're roaming around on your own."

"So, you think I should just stay here all night?" she asked as she started pulling him along as she walked.

He smiled and nodded before checking his watch. "I have to be at work in six hours—"

"You do?" she asked. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

"After my night?" he asked. "Good luck with that."

"You're going to be exhausted," she said as she stopped and looked at him.

He made a face as if that was nothing new. "I've worked on less sleep before," he said, wrapping his arms around her, "which is why you should stay. I'm not going to sleep anyway and I'll probably just be thinking about you the entire time anyway."

She leaned into him. "I'm just afraid they're going to worry. Then tell my parents that they spent the whole night worrying about me, which will only get me in trouble."

"So, let's walk down there and tell them you're staying with me," he suggested.

She looked up at him as though he was crazy.

"Harry's not going to care," he added.

She shook her head and smiled at him. "You're going to be trouble."


	30. Back to Work

Running on less than an hour of sleep, and using what little adrenaline he had left, Ted walked into St. Mungo's just before six o'clock in the morning. He still smelled like a mixture of the woods and sweat, but it only took him a second to forget all about that upon walking across the ground floor of the hospital. It was a complete madhouse. At least sixty people were currently sitting in the waiting area looking to be helped. Some were bleeding from minor wounds, some looked bruised and broken, and others looked to be several different degrees of ill. One man in particular was vomiting into a stationary plant pot just off to the side of the room. Ted had never seen anything like it.

He took the stairs to the third floor, avoiding the lifts at all costs given the masses of people who were trying to get on them. As he reached the corner of the hospital where the lab was situated, he noticed it was far quieter here than it had been downstairs, though he could still hear the cries and calls of various Healers down the corridor. It was at the point where he was afraid of entering the lab for fear of what he might have to see.

He pushed open the door to the lab and was met with Paul, Hazel, and Nate all standing around the cook station. They all glanced at him as he entered, each looking a little tired, but no worse for the wear. They looked nothing like the Healers that he'd seen scrambling around the ground floor moments earlier.

"Morning, Ted," said Paul.

Ted gave a lazy wave and looked around. He had seriously expected to see this place turned upside down. How was it so calm in here, yet so mad out there?

"Is it still chaos out there?" Hazel asked.

"Yeah," he said as he threw his bag down. "What's going on?"

"Quidditch World Cup," Paul said obviously. "Thousands of people getting together over alcohol, sport, and ego, and well…" He rolled his eyes. "People get hurt."

"Oh," Ted said blankly.

"And we, for once, planned ahead," Hazel said with a tired smile. "Everyone laughed at me last week when I was telling everyone to brew extra Strengthen Draughts and Blood Clotting Serums, but did we run out of anything today?"

Paul and Nate shook their heads.

"The most work we had to do was run all over the hospital restoring supply cupboards," she continued. "All in all, a successful night."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…" Nate said with a begrudging, but appreciative smile towards Hazel. "Things did go pretty smooth. For once."

"Thanks to me," Hazel said, still smiling.

"We get it Hazel, you're Merlin's gift to this hospital," Nate mumbled. "Do you want a medal?"

"No, but a cup of tea would be nice."

"Make Durrin go get it when he gets back from his ninety-ninth supply run," Nate said before turning to Ted. "By the way, you're training him today."

Ted nodded. Given that he'd just had two days off, he had little room to argue about training the new guy.

"So," Nate said as he walked over to Ted's desk. "How was the match?"

"Oh, right," Paul said. "I forgot you went to the World Cup."

Ted smiled. Even though the match had happened less than twenty-four hours earlier, it seemed as though it had happened months ago. So much had happened in between that he'd almost forgotten about it entirely. "It was great."

"That's it?"

Ted shrugged. "Yeah, I mean, Argentina won and everyone celebrated. That's really it."

"You got two days off and you come back to tell us that?" Nate said. "Seriously, Ted, I was kind of hoping for a little more of a story."

He smiled lazily. "I'm running on no sleep, so I'll get back to you."

Nate began to shake his head wearily, just as the lab door opened and in walked Durrin Adams, the lab's newest hire fresh out of Hogwarts. He was tall and athletic looking with copper red hair and freckles, which allowed Ted to easily recognize him from their days at school. He had been in Gryffindor and had played Quidditch for their team, but what had most stuck out in Ted's mind when Durrin had first walked into the lab a month previously was a very random memory from about two years ago. A memory from when Ted had been in his sixth year. He wasn't even sure why he remembered it, but the second he had been introduced to Durrin on his first day at the hospital, it triggered something to recollect it in his head.

It had been just days after his huge fight with Victoire and had been standing in the corridors waiting for Simon, or Celia, or someone-he couldn't remember exactly. He had been leaning against the wall outside of the Transfiguration room when Durrin and two of his other fifth-year friends walked by. One of the friends, a squirrely looking boy, had stopped upon noticing Ted.

"Hey, are you the one who had the big row out on the grounds the other day?" he had asked. "The one with Victoire Weasley?"

Ted stared at him.

"Yeah, it's him," Durrin had said, pointing to him. "He's the Metamorphmagus guy."

Ted looked away. The Metamorphmagus guy, huh? That was a new one. He usually just got, "the weird one" or the "the guy with the hair," but he had to give the kid credit for actually getting the term right.

"Why'd you two fight?" the squirrelly boy asked.

"I really don't think that's any of your business," Ted said in a disinterested manner.

"Jeez," the squirrelly boy said. "I was just curious. I mean, she's pretty fit, so I don't see why you'd want to fight with her."

Ted cocked his eyebrow. "That doesn't even make any sense."

"He rarely does," Durrin had muttered before walking away. Squirrelly boy made a face and followed after him, arguing something about, "What's that supposed to mean?" until his voice faded down the corridor. Ted wasn't even sure why the memory still held to him, but it was always surprising to him to see what he actually remembered over time and what he didn't.

Hazel had smiled once Durrin entered the lab. He set down several folders and had barely taken three steps before she said, "Durrin, I've got a job for you!"

His face flinched. Ted could easily remember the days of being run around like an errand boy and immediately sympathized with him. Not that that was going to stop him from running Durrin around himself, but he at least sympathized.

"I'd really like some tea," she said pleasantly.

Durrin sighed, knowing he had little say in the matter. "Anyone else want anything?"

Both Nate and Paul both said coffee at the same time, and then both gave completely different instructions as to how they took it. Durrin rubbed his eyes wearily. It was now clear as to why Paul, Nate, and Hazel didn't look half as tired as Ted had assumed they would be. They'd been sending Durrin off to do everything.

"Here," Ted said. "I'll go, too."

"There's an idea," Nate said. "Since you're training him today, you should train him to know how I like my coffee."

"Or I can train him to learn how to tell you to piss off," Ted suggested. He glanced at Durrin. "It's definitely something you'll need to know around here."

"That's for sure," Hazel said once Ted reached the door and pulled it open. He held it for Durrin to pass and the two of them ventured down the corridor towards the stairs. The lifts were still far too busy for them to attempt to take.

"How was the World Cup?" Durrin asked as they climbed the last flight of stairs before reaching the tea room. "That's where you went, right?"

"Yeah," Ted said. "It was a lot of fun." He smiled as he thought of Victoire. "A lot of fun."

"Did you do the whole camping thing?"

Ted nodded. "Yeah, some friends and I did."

Durrin's expression turned slightly jealous "Lucky you. I best you had the best time."

He thought of Victoire again. "Yeah, I did."

"Were people going mad after the match?"

Ted made a gesture to indicate around the hospital. "I think the amount of people here right now answers that question."

Durrin laughed. "I would have never been able to sleep."

"I didn't," he said as they reached the fifth floor. "Well, maybe for an hour, but that's about it."

"Did you party and celebrate? I would have been running around going mental."

Ted shrugged. "I mostly just relaxed and took everything in. I just sort of ended up spending most of my time with," he hesitated slightly, "this really amazing girl."

"Oh, yeah?" Durrin asked with a little smile. "That's cool."

"Yeah, we had a lot of fun," Ted said, thinking back to the night before. After telling Simon about their relationship and dealing with his reaction, he'd walked Victoire back down to her campsite once she'd convinced him that spending all night together wasn't going to help keep their secret quiet. When they'd arrived at her site and noticed Harry, Ginny, and the other adults all sitting around the campfire chatting, Ted had decided to stay for a bit. He wasn't planning on that bit to turn into hours at a time, but with Victoire there, he didn't let it bother him.

There was a sort of thrill involved in pretending that they weren't together. The feeling of sitting right next to her—talking to her as if they hadn't just spent an hour rolling around on a camp bed together—but not being able to act on any of the impulses he had was strangely compelling. At least ten times, he had wanted to reach over and grab her hand or touch her, but he couldn't. He had to stop himself. It only made him want to do it more.

Even though they couldn't act on anything, they managed to find moments. Ted had taken to lightly pinching the back of her arm when they were seated side by side and listening to someone else talk. She had returned the gesture by frequently letting her arm rest on his leg, but making it seem like an accident. If someone had been really paying attention, or even half paying attention, they would have been able to easily figure that something was different between the two of them. Luckily for them, everyone seemed too tired to really notice.

One by one, as everyone trickled off to bed and night slowly began to creep closer and closer morning, Victoire seemed determined to outlast everyone else. However, when it came down to just Ted, her, Louis, and Jack at around four-thirty in the morning, it was pretty clear that she was fighting a losing battle. She even seemed to stop being so discreet at one point, or least that's what Ted thought as she leaned her head onto his shoulder and fell asleep.

"I'm going to go back to my camp," Ted had said as he lightly roused her. "You should get some sleep."

She picked her head off his shoulder and looked at him with sleepy eyes. Several feet away, Louis and Jack were still going strong and looked as if they weren't showing any signs of slowing down.

"Why?" she asked.

"I have to be at work in a little over an hour," he said. "I'm going to try and get an hour of sleep beforehand."

She looked confused. Given how exhausted she was, this wasn't surprising. "You have to work?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it's crap."

She sat up straight and rubbed her eyes. She looked back over at her brother, who was laughing at something Jack had just said. "Stupid Louis. I wish he'd just go to bed."

Ted also looked in Louis's direction. He had to agree with her. Why couldn't they just go to bed already so that he and she could get a few minutes of privacy? As it seemed, Louis and Jack were ready to go all night.

"I really should go, though," Ted said as he made motion to stand up. Victoire did as well just as Louis and Jack looked at them both.

"You're leaving?" Louis asked.

"I have to be at work soon," Ted said.

"Rotten luck," he said.

Ted glanced at Victoire. "Tell me about it." He turned back to Louis and suddenly pointed. "Hey, Lou, what the hell is that behind you?"

Both Louis and Jack looked, but Ted hadn't been pointing at anything specific. He took the moment to lean in and quickly kiss Victoire. He pulled away and smiled. "Bye."

"I don't see anything," Louis said.

Victoire laughed and Ted forced his face to look confused. "I swear I saw something. Maybe I just need some sleep." He shrugged and smiled at Victoire. "See you all later."

That had been how Ted predominately spent his evening. By the time he had gotten back to his own camp, everyone was either gone or asleep. He had almost instantly fallen asleep once his head hit the pillow, only to be awakened an hour later by the fact that he now had to spend his day in a laboratory. As it was, the trip he was making for coffee was desperately needed. He was even contemplating whether or not he should whip himself up a potion that would give him the energy to get through the day.

Durrin reached the tearoom door first and pulled it open. It was fairly crowded inside, and by the looks of the crowd, they had mostly come straight from the World Cup. These weren't the sick or the hurt, though. These three were the ones waiting on word about their loved ones' conditions.

They both made their way through the crowd and over towards the coffee and tea where a small line had formed. Ted had begun instructing Durrin on how to make sure he should always short Nate one sugar in his coffee when he was being particularly obnoxious—a rule that Hazel had instated, yet everyone seemed to follow—when he recognized Elizabeth's familiar face entering the room.

He hadn't seen much of Elizabeth since their conversation in Russia, and when he did, it was mostly in passing. She had finished her six month rotation on the second floor and had thus been moved down to the ground floor for her training in Magical Artifact Malfunctions. At this very moment, however, she looked exhausted. She clearly had been among the Healers that Ted had noticed when he'd entered. The ground floor had been the busiest floor of them all.

She stepped up behind Ted in line, but didn't seem to recognize him. She simply leaned her head back against the wall, closed her eyes, and waited her turn.

"Long night?" Ted asked her.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, suddenly realizing who was speaking. "I hate my job."

"That's not true."

"I do today," she said. "I cannot even tell you the number of broom stick injuries we had come in today. Hundreds! Hundreds of idiots trying to replicate the tricks they saw at the World Cup." She made a face. "I mean, there are reasons why you people aren't professional Quidditch players!"

Ted smirked, but tried to hide it. "I'd believe it."

"Have you all been busy in your corner of the hospital?" she asked.

He shrugged. "I just got here. I was at the World Cup."

She stared at him, her eyes heavy. "I hate you."

"That's not true, either."

She stood up straight. "You better tell me you had a miserable time," she said, "because I may just hit you if you tell me you had fun while I was stuck here going insane."

He looked up and shifted his weight on his feet. "I probably shouldn't say anything, then."

She groaned a little. "Okay, now I really do hate you, Ted. We're not friends anymore."

He smiled. "Sorry."

She shook her head and settled her eyes on Durrin, who had been watching the two of them converse. She smiled curiously. "Durrin?"

"Hi, Liz."

She laughed a little. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm training to be in antidote research." He gestured towards Ted.

She laughed a little and stepped forward to give him a hug. "I haven't seen you in ages."

"Yeah," he said. "Not since you and Stu split up."

She rolled her eyes. "Ah, yes, I forgot you were around for all of that."

"Good times," he said sarcastically as the line moved forward so that they could help themselves to coffee. "Last I heard, you and Thorpe were together."

She nodded. "And I bet you heard that from Stu."

Durrin made an awkward face as he picked up a coffee cup. "Yeah…He didn't take that well."

"Wait," Ted said pointing at Elizabeth. "You and Thorpe worked things out?"

"I didn't tell you that?"

Ted shook his head.

"Oh," she said blankly. "Well, yeah, we did. About a month a half ago. See, this is what happens when they send me down to the ground floor. I lose all sense of direction and time. I disappear."

Ted grinned. "Hey, that's good, then. At least you worked things out."

She smiled lazily; her previous cranky demeanor cracked ever so slightly. "Did you ever work things out?" she asked. "With that girl you were talking about in Russia?"

"I did," he said as he started filling his cup up with coffee. "Just last night, in fact."

"So, it took you," she stopped to do the math in her head, "Over three months?"

"Hey, it took you a good couple month to sort your deal out with Thorpe."

She started to help herself to coffee. "True, but I also had a huge obstacle in the way in the form of my ex-boyfriend. What did you have?"

Ted scratched his head. "Let's just say, I had things I had to deal with."

She smirked at him and stepped around him to grab some sugar. "I'm sure."

"I'm telling you, if you knew the circumstances…"

"I'm mostly kidding, Ted." She dumped some sugar into her coffee before stirring it. "But hey, since you worked things out, now you can tell me who it is. Maybe I know her."

"I'm pretty sure you do know her."

"Well, who is it?" she asked. "If I know her, perhaps we could all get together sometime and hang out. I need more friends in couples to hang out with because I always feel like my single friends think they're the third wheel."

Ted sipped his coffee and stared at her. That probably wasn't such a good idea. Not because of the slight past he and Elizabeth had—they both seemed content to put them behind them—but rather, due to the past that Victoire and David had.

"I don't know if that would work," he said.

"Why not?"

He glanced at Durrin, who was still busy filling various coffee cups and barely paying attention. "See, my girlfriend used to date your boyfriend."

Elizabeth stared into his face as though studying him. "Well, that means your girlfriend is either that trampy slag he dated a few months ago whose name I don't even remember, Hannah Dowling, or Victoire Weas…" She stopped as if she suddenly realized. Her jaw slowly began to drop.

Ted cringed. He had really been counting on a guy like David to have had a lot more than just three girls to choose from. That wasn't supposed to be that easy to figure out.

"Oh, that's adorable…"

Ted rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. "Just do me a favor. It's new, so we're keeping it a bit quiet for now."

She sipped her coffee and began making her way down the line towards the cashier. "I can understand that." She laughed a little. "Yeah, I suppose double dating would be a bit odd then, wouldn't it?"

"A little bit."

Elizabeth laughed before disappearing around the corner to pay for her coffee; swinging back around to say bye to both Ted and Durrin before exiting the tearoom. The pair of them, in turn, gathered and paid for all the cups they had filled and, with their hands full, they slowly started to make their way back to the lab.

"You know," Durrin said as they walked. "Back when I was younger. I used to have such a thing for Liz."

Ted laughed. "I think a lot of people did."

"Probably…" he agreed. "But yeah, back in like my third and fourth year, I thought she was the prettiest girl that I'd ever seen. But, then she and Stu got together, so I moved on."

Ted smiled a little. That story seemed familiar.

"Looking back, she was definitely one of the hottest girls we went to school with. Maybe even the hottest."

Ted considered this. "Yeah, she's okay. But, I can definitely think of someone else who was a lot hotter."

Durrin looked at him. "Who?"

Ted simply smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End :) Thanks for reading! There is a sequel, called "Here, There, and Everywhere" (part 4). It's the last and final story in this T/V series and told from both Teddy and Victoire's POVs. Here's hoping you check it out. Thanks again for reading!


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